Per Alicus Oculae
by ErabuHikari
Summary: COMPLETE! The team finds an Ancient device buried in a cave and Rodney just can’t keep his paws off it. This spells trouble for Sheppard and him, who are hurled back into an Atlantis not quite like the one from which they came….
1. Rantings and Ravings

**Per Alicus Oculae**

**Summary: **The team finds an Ancient device buried in a cave and Rodney just can't keep his paws off it. This spells trouble for Sheppard and him, who are hurled back into an Atlantis not quite like the one from which they came…. So AU it's not even funny. Rodney/John friendship, in their own demented way.

**Spoilers: **Anything from season one is fair game, but as with my last story, specific spoiler warnings will be posted at the beginning of each chapter.

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately, I do not own Stargate Atlantis, because if I did I would be basking in the fandom glory. This story is not for profit, just for fun.

**Rating: **T for some language and complicated sounding technobabble.

**A/N: **This is my first attempt at a lighter fic, as opposed to my two other darker, angstier fics. So be nice! And since 'mildly amusing' wasn't a category option, I had to stick it under 'humor.' Thanks to nomadicwriter for inspiring a few lines of the dialogue.

The title will be explained in the second chapter. Wouldn't want to give too much away at once, now would we? It's Ancient… no seriously, lol. Because I say so. I figured since Ancient was so close to Latin, I'd just take the Latin translation, mutilate it a bit, and voila, call it Ancient. No, I don't speak Ancient. Damn.

Thanks to everyone for reviewing my last two stories. Those reviews are what got this one up and out so quickly.

On with the show!

**Chapter 1: Rantings and Ravings**

"Ah, ah, ooh! Ow! _Ow_! There, right _there_! Get it out!"

John rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. _Stay calm…. Just count backwards from ten_…._ Ten… nine… eight_…. The major would have thought that after all these months he would have gotten use to the irritating tendencies of a certain Rodney McKay, brilliant astrophysicist and pain-in-the-ass extraordinaire, but it _still_ never failed to amaze him just how much of a big baby the full-grown man could be.

Satisfied he wasn't going to blow up at the doctor, Major Sheppard replied in as level a tone as he could muster. "McKay. There is _nothing _in your eye, I promise."

"Just check it again, will you?"

"I've looked in there twice already-"

"Look, you're not the one with a grain of sand the size of the Sahara obstructing your cornea!" Rodney shouted irritably. "Now if you don't _mind_…."

_I swear to God. Why me? _Deep breath. _Ten… nine… eight_…. Dutifully, John crouched down to the smaller man's height, flipped on his standard issue flashlight, and directed its (mostly dim) beam into his friend's left eye.

The reaction was as immediate as it was sudden, causing John to jump slightly.

"Jesus, Major, are you trying to _blind_ me? It's bad enough I'm having trouble seeing already! Why don't I just saunter down outside and have a good stare at the sun, would that-"

"Rodney! If you want this thing-" and John doubted it was anything at all, "- out, shut up and stay still. Besides," he continued, indicating the small flashlight, "it's not even that bright."

The scientist grumbled something unintelligible but obliged nonetheless, putting on a grand display of feigned discomfort when the light was once more shown into his eyes. Sheppard ignored him, even holding the light in place a bit longer than necessary just to hassle the man.

"There, satisfied? There's nothing in there; no grains of sand, no specs of dust, no furry creatures," the Air Force officer explained.

Rodney frowned. "All the same, I think we should head back-"

"Oh for cryin' out loud…" John moaned.

"- and have Beckett take a good look at it. Nothing personal, Major, but he _is_ a medical doctor, for whatever _that's_ worth, and for all you know I could have an infection brewing or break out in deadly hives from a possibly fatal allergic reaction. I mean, who knows what sort of bacteria this place is teeming with? Colonies upon colonies of unicellular _killers_, Major. Ever see someone in hives from head to toe? Not pretty. Did you know your throat could close-"

"Rodney."

"Right. We should just get back to Atlantis before I die, that's all I'm saying."

"Before you die," John repeated dryly. Rodney McKay: God's gift to the field of science, Atlantis's resident hypochondriac. Doctorate in astrophysics, Master's in exaggeration. An expert in a "Gate theory, wormhole physics, and a myriad of other sciences too numerous to mention yet too important to ignore," self-proclaimed genius, the next step in human evolution. _God help us all, _John thought.

"So basically, you're just worried about saving your own ass?" asked John directly.

Doctor McKay paused to think for a moment. "Mmm… yes," he replied with a nonchalant shrug, as if to say, "And your point?" He then started to rub furiously at his left eye. "Ahh, it itches! What if it starts oozing?"

"Nice mental picture, McKay, really. Thanks for that."

"Look," Rodney screamed, a horrified look on his face as he pointed, "it's all red!"

"Because you're _rubbing_ at it."

John was content with watching the spectacle before him, the short scientist walking aimlessly in circles, one hand clutching at his eye while he continued to spout off about the different ways the said organ would cause his untimely death. It was all rather amusing, really. Not for one moment did Major Sheppard believe Rodney was in any sort of imminent danger, at any risk of suffering a health hazard, and he certainly knew the man wasn't going to drop dead. If there was anything that endangered the lives of any one of the members of his team, John would be the first to pull out. But this was just ridiculous. Rodney had sunk to a new low. Hell, there wasn't even anything in his eye….

For the first time, John really _looked _around at the cavern he and his team were currently in. It was dark, dank, smelled to high Heaven, and small - about the size of an average living room, with one entrance. Stalagmites and stalactites covered the ceiling and floor, like fingers reaching toward each other. Numerous fissures and outcroppings adorned the walls of the cave, some hiding the evidence of the Ancients that had once been here. Their trademark architecture was unmistakable, but most signs of civilization had been worn away by thousands of years of erosion. Nature had a bad habit of doing that.

In fact, it was those left over marks of Ancient society that had brought them here to P7G-117 in the first place. Hoping to discover some useful technology, Sheppard's team had learned this was once one of many Ancient outposts, similar to the one in Antarctica. This one, though, had fared the test of time far worse.

They had only been here an hour or so and already they were bored to tears; there was nothing to be found either within or outside the cavern. John looked at his team: Rodney, still doing his happy dance in the corner, Teyla, guarding the entrance but looking as if she was about to fall asleep, and Ford, staring blankly at one of the back walls.

Sighing, the major realized there was nothing here worth staying for.

"All right, McKay, you've got your wish. Everyone, let's pack it up and head out."

Teyla's head suddenly jerked upright, shaking the boredom from her body. What she had just heard John say had been music to her ears, though she would never admit it. Immediately, she shouldered her gear and headed for the exit.

"It's about time," McKay grumbled, following suit. "We should radio ahead and inform Carson of our situation."

_Situation? _John thought. _What situation? That McKay's at it again?_

Rodney continued, dead serious. "Tell him we need a quarantine zone in the Jumper Bay, an eye wash, antibiotics, possibly a defibrillator-"

"Doctor McKay!" Ford called from across the cavern. He was still staring at the back wall.

All three teammates turned simultaneously to see what in the world was keeping them in this God forsaken armpit of the Pegasus Galaxy one more second longer than necessary.

"Doctor McKay," came the call again. "I think you should see this!"

"Yes, 'see' being the operative word now, isn't it?" came the cynical reply. Still fidgeting with his eye, he continued. "I'm lucky I don't walk into a wall and suffer a concussion. Then what would Atlantis do? Oh boy, I can picture Zelenka now, trying to run a diagnostic on the ZPM by himself-"

"I think it's some sort of Ancient device," the lieutenant interrupted, puzzlement creasing his features as he continued to look at what he had uncovered.

This got Rodney's attention. He instantly forgot about his 'affliction' as the hand fell from his eye and he dropped his gear to the ground. "Oh?" he asked, interested.

John rolled his eyes once more. Somehow it didn't surprise him at all that McKay could turn off the injured routine just as quickly as he had turned it on.

"A ZPM maybe?" wondered Teyla aloud.

"No… I don't think so," Aiden answered. "It's got more gizmos and doodads on it than a ZPM does."

Upon hearing the words 'gizmos' and 'doodads,' the astrophysicist did his best impression of an Olympic sprinter over to where Ford was kneeling.

_So much for all the horrible pain he was in_, Sheppard thought as he and Teyla reluctantly followed.

Rodney ran his hands up and down the device. It was about the two feet tall and cylindrical in shape with a flat, bulky, rectangular base. _What is it with Ancients and cylinders anyway? _he wondered. Ford was right: it did have more buttons and switches on its face than a ZPM did, but what they did he could only begin to speculate.

Teyla, Sheppard, and Ford stood back, watching in silence and expectation as the doctor continued to poke and prod at the device for several minutes. John was growing visibly irritated; watching his friend press, pinch, push, twist, and tap every square inch of his new toy wasn't exactly his idea of fun.

"You know, Rodney, you have to stop touching that thing like that or people will start talking," he taunted.

McKay stopped what he was doing and threw John a displeased look. "Har har, Major." Would the rest of his team ever grow up? Couldn't they see what he was doing was of extreme scientific importance? "Why wasn't this found earlier?" he demanded.

John didn't miss a beat. "Oh, gee, I don't know. Maybe it was because _half_ the team was too busy trying to dig that supposed ever-crafty, ever-cunning grain of sand out of a certain crybaby's eye to be involved in mere _scientific_ matters. Boy, that grain of sand, he sure got us. He was allusive, that one."

Ford couldn't help but laugh. Despite being the only one doing his duty, he had heard the earlier verbal sparring match between his CO and Rodney. They weren't that uncommon; the two friends went at it all the time. Ford and Teyla were usually wise enough to stay out of it. But this had been one of the better ones.

"I don't appreciate your sarcasm, Major. There was nothing 'supposed' about it; it was really in there." McKay turned back to the device and way from the group, like a schoolboy going to pout in the corner. "Anyway, I think we should stay so I can take some readings and measurements."

He was met by three distinctive moans.

"Stay?" Ford asked. "Weren't you the one ready to hightail it out of here just a second ago?"

"Yeah," John added. "What happened to the Sahara Desert being in your eye? Did the sandstorm magically disappear?"

"I'm glad you're all having heaps of fun at my expense, but I can assure you I am still in quite a great deal of discomfort," Rodney explained.

Teyla stifled a laugh.

"But this device here is far more important than any one man."

_Oh no. Is this his attempt at sounding all self-sacrificing and noble? _John wondered. _Please, spare me_….

"So if I must endure excruciating pain a little while longer than I must; what can I say? There's no telling what sort of information we can gather from this, and while I do appreciate your concern for my well-being, I'm going to have to decline your offer to leave. No, not me. Rodney McKay is staying because he's a trooper and he'll tough it out no matter what. Through thick and thin, come rain or…." He fumbled, forgetting how the phrase went. "Neither sleet nor…." _Dammit. Stupid idiom. _Desperately, he tried to recover. "Never faltering, unwavering… uh… I get the job done."

He concluded his speech, clearly pleased with himself. Ford looked sick to his stomach, mouth agape. Teyla had turned away, not wanting to offend Rodney with her laughter. John just stared at Dr. McKay, a small smile on his lips. He had to admit, that was a good one. Could he have laid on the cheese any thicker?

"Finished?" Sheppard asked lightly.

McKay nodded.

John's tone turned serious. "Good. Let's go."

The smug expression vanished from the scientist's face, replaced instead by one of shock and confusion.

"What? You can't be serious! I can't just leave now, after finding… finding… _this_!" He realized he still didn't even know what 'this' was.

"McKay, you still don't even know what 'this' is," John reasoned.

_Damn him. _"Which is why we have to stay! To find out, to study it!"

"Oh, no, no, no," came back the major, who once again began shouldering his pack. "_We _don't have to do anything. _You _can stay. _You _can study it. _We're _going home."

Teyla and Ford remained silent, watching the other two members of the team trade their respective lines of reasoning. Their heads went back and forth as each one spoke, like watching a tennis match.

"What, you're not going to just leave me here?" McKay cried, now panicked.

As a response, the major turned and began to walk away. Teyla and Ford followed suite.

"Major!"

No answer.

"John! You can't be serious!"

Sheppard threw him a wave over his shoulder without looking back and exited the cave. A devilish grin he was glad Rodney couldn't see played upon his face.

Rodney was suddenly alone with only the device to keep him company. "Fine!" he shouted at the exit. He didn't need them anyway. He was smarter than all three of them combined. What did two military types and an Athosian know about Ancient technology anyway?

* * *

John halted his team just outside the exit, out of Rodney's line of sight. 

"Sir, we're really not going to leave him…. Are we?" Ford asked.

"No, of course not. Tempting, but no. Besides, I give him one minute before he comes running out of that cavern like a bat out of hell."

"One minute?" Teyla posed. "Do you not think you are not giving Doctor McKay enough credit?"

John and Aiden looked at Teyla, deadpan. This was Rodney they were talking about. Left alone. In a dark cave.

"Perhaps not…" she reconsidered.

"One minute," John reaffirmed, and they began the wait.

* * *

Crouched over the device, Rodney began to study it once more. He'd been over it dozens of times already; did he really expect to find something he hadn't already uncovered, especially in this damned poor light? 

Something behind the device, however, caught his eye. It was etched in the rock wall of the crevasse the device had been found in, and it looked like writing. Ancient maybe? Whatever it was, some of it was rubbed off, and what good was writing if you couldn't read the text in its entirety? McKay shrugged. Who cares? He'd leave that to the anthropologists; this baby here was his. Besides, it was probably some inane little verse the Ancients had written about some silly little-

A sound to his left interrupted his thoughts. The scratching of a loose pebble rolling across the floor echoed in the chamber.

_Relax, it's just a rock_…. _But something must have knocked it out of place. Or some_one….

The steady _drip… drip… drip _of water of one of the stalactites was driving him insane… and quite frankly really creeping him out. Suddenly the darkness seemed to press down upon him, and he felt even more alone - if that was at all possible. _Did the temperature just drop in here?_

The clatter of the next rock hitting the stone wall froze him in place. "It's just a rock…" he laughed nervously.

But as soon as the aforementioned item rolled to a stop at his feet, the timid astrophysicist was up in a flash, venturing to see just how heavy the Ancient device was. Not too heavy at all.

_Good._

With that, McKay lifted the contraption, hurriedly hoisted his gear, and ran for dear life toward the exit.

* * *

"Dr. Weir, this is Sheppard. Come in," John tried over his radio. The Stargate, only a few dozen yards away, had established a wormhole back to Atlantis in preparation for their departure. 

After a few moments silence, a concerned female voice on the other side responded. "Major, you're a bit early. Trouble?"

John grinned; she knew him all too well. He and his team had a nasty habit of running into… _snags _on missions. He'd like to think of it more as a case of trouble following him around wherever he went rather than it being he himself who caused all the trouble. At least that was what he kept telling himself. It was his story and he was stickin' to it.

"Boredom is more like it, Elizabeth. There is absolutely nothing here, except what McKay thinks is some sort of Ancient gadget. He's bringing it back for study."

"Can't he study it there on site?" Elizabeth asked. Usually, it was what the scientist preferred, to gather some information from the area initially before returning back to base.

John turned to his teammates and glanced at his watch. _In three… two… one…._

Three sets of eyes turned to the entrance to the cavern. Right on cue, Rodney came hurling through the brush that covered the mouth of the cave with the device cradled in his arms and gear flailing wildly out behind him. Clearly, he was out of breath from his daunting flight from the unseen terrors of the frightening cave, and his eyes were as wide as saucers.

Major Sheppard smiled, victorious. "McKay insists," he answered Elizabeth.

"All right, if that's what he wants. You're clear to come through anytime, Major."

"Copy. See you in a few."

Switching off his radio, John glanced at Rodney with feigned curiosity. "What's the rush, McKay?" he asked with casual indifference. "Something spook you in there?"

The scientist in question, who had slowed his breakneck flight to the leisurely and deliberate pace of his now what he liked to call 'strategic withdrawal,' brushed his hands together as if it was nothing. Holding his head high in an effort to mask his absolute fright, he walked right past the group and continued on to the Stargate.

"Just heard some noises, that's all." He cleared his throat. "Now if you don't mind, if we could all kindly move along, I have some important work to do that cannot wait because of your idle chitchat. Thank you."

Teyla, John, and Aiden all shared in a knowing look before following Rodney back toward the Gate. Teyla allowed her CO to pass before placing a hand on Aiden's shoulder, stopping him.

"I suppose I will just pretend I did not see those rocks you were throwing into the cave while we were waiting for Doctor McKay to rejoin us," she informed the lieutenant, letting him know she knew damn well what he had been up to.

Ford gave her his best innocent look. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

With a devious grin Teyla couldn't help but compare to the major's - _the lieutenant is spending too much time with Major Sheppard, _Teyla thought - Aiden stepped through the event horizon and back home.

TBC

* * *

Okay, you all know how much I looooveee reviews...

Seriously, how was it? More verbal sparring matches to come, plus a little bit of trouble for our favorite scientist and pilot.


	2. The Switch

**Per Alicus Oculae**

**A/N: **Thanks for the great reviews, guys! I just realized this fic has no point to it whatsoever. I don't think there's one serious moment in the entire thing. Just for fun, though. I needed a break from the angst, lol. Besides, who could resist Rodney and John?

**Chapter 2: The Switch**

Upon returning to Atlantis, the team was subjected to the standard post-mission physical, much to McKay's chagrin. So he was a little out of shape, so what? He knew it, his team knew it, and he sure as hell didn't need another reminder from Dr. Beckett about it.

After being cleared (minus one mysteriously absent grain of sand), the Canadian obediently - and reluctantly - sought out Sergeant Bates, head of security. Any alien - and therefore possibly dangerous - artifacts or pieces of technology coming from offworld and into Atlantis needed to be checked out by the sergeant first, lest it pose a hazard to the city's population.

Bates studied the newly found device. He had no clue what it was. To him, it was an overblown soup can with some strange controls on it. He pushed some of the buttons. Nothing.

Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes, not attempting to hide his impatience. The sooner they finished here, the sooner he could hole up in his lab and get to work.

"Looks clean to me," Bates said with a shrug.

"Of course it's clean," Rodney responded bitterly, snatching the device back possessively. _What would this blockhead know anyway other than shoot first, ask questions later?_

"But if you ask me," the sergeant continued, "it's not going to do anything. It looks dead."

"Well, I _didn't_ ask you, did I? Now if you'll excuse me…." He pushed past the security officer and headed upstairs. Next stop: briefing room.

As he entered the large room, Rodney noticed he was the last to arrive. Teyla, Ford, Sheppard, Beckett, and Elizabeth were already seated at the oddly shaped table, clearly waiting for him to arrive before they began.

"Sorry," McKay said, though not actually sorry at all. "I was held up by your fine, upstanding security team, Elizabeth." He took a seat at the end of the table and the doors to the room closed simultaneously, signaling the beginning of the meeting.

Elizabeth glanced at him, amused. "I'm sure we can all forgive you, Rodney. Now, what have you got for us?"

"Hmm? Oh." The scientist looked down at the Ancient whatever-it-was he hadn't realized he'd been cradling in his lap. Though he would never admit to it, he was a bit protective of any new technology he discovered. _Can never be too careful, especially with that damned Kavanagh lurking around, just waiting to steal my ideas._

Gingerly, he placed the apparatus on the table for all to see, once again admiring the craftsmanship that had went into constructing it. Whatever it was, surely it was of importance. Rodney couldn't help his eyes from gleaming with awe.

The others weren't nearly as impressed. "So what is it?" Carson asked unenthusiastically.

McKay looked at the doctor blankly. "I don't know, why?"

"Well, I'm just a medical doctor, so forgive me, but I would think that knowing what it is would be of some assistance if we're ever going to figure out what it does."

"'_I,_'" McKay corrected. "If _I _am ever going to figure out what it does. Which I am quite sure I _will_, giving the proper amount of time and correct tools."

"Exactly. Hear that?" John chimed in, eager to get the aggravating astrophysicist out of his hair so he could catch his afternoon nap. "Someone get this man some tools so he can get to work. All right, so I guess that about wraps things up…" he said, standing.

"What's this, then?" Carson asked, the Scot reaching out to touch a portion of the device.

"Hey!" McKay protested, slapping the doctor's hand away. But he was too late; Beckett had already made contact with one of the barely visible buttons. To everyone's surprise, a small panel slid out from behind the button.

"Just what is it you think you're doing? You could have killed us all!" Rodney continued his diatribe.

"Relax, Rodney," John assured. "It's not like it's going to blow us up."

"You don't know that!" He irritably grabbed the device off the table and plopped it down in front of him, huddling over it protectively. All of his anger disappeared, however, when he noticed Ancient text engraved in the newly uncovered panel.

The others peered over his shoulder, trying to get a peek at the writing. "What's it say?" Ford asked curiously.

_What do I look like, a linguist? _True, he could read and translate most Ancient text - one of his many invaluable talents - but why did everyone look to him for answers? What was he, Mr. Know-it-All? _Well, actually, yes, _he admitted to himself proudly.

"'Ut sibleceo vita per alicus oculae,'" he read.

"To glimpse life through another's eyes'?" Weir questioned.

Rodney nodded. "Cute. Okay, shall we?" He reached for one of the buttons.

"Whoa, whoa. McKay, do you really think you should be touching random doohickeys? I mean, 'to glimpse life through another's eyes'? That sounds pretty heavy," Ford said.

"The lieutenant is correct," Teyla agreed. "Perhaps we should not meddle in matters beyond our understanding."

"_Doohickeys_, lieutenant? Need I remind you I am a professional and I'm quite confident in my abilities," McKay shot back.

"That makes one of us," Beckett muttered under his breath.

"McKay, maybe you shouldn't be messing with that thing just yet," John added his two cents. That machine was starting to make him just a bit nervous.

"Look," Elizabeth reasoned. "Why don't we all break for lunch and you can take it back to your lab and study it there afterwards; how's that sound, Rodney?" She felt as if she were pleading with a six-year-old boy who didn't want to stop playing with his toys.

"But-"

Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow.

_Damn. 'The look.' _"Fine." Rodney conceded defeat and sulked back to his lab, the device tucked between his arm and body.

* * *

John strolled down the hall, his leisurely pace reflecting his care-free nature. A nice turkey sandwich, a couple chocolate chip cookies, and a few minutes of shut eye really did the body good. 

Arriving at his destination, the major placed his palm on the wall panel, not bothering to knock, and entered the lab. Immediately, he spotted McKay hunched over his new piece of Ancient technology, which was currently hooked up to two laptops and half a dozen monitors and instruments. Rodney hadn't even noticed the major's entrance.

"McKay, I though Elizabeth ordered you to break for lunch."

"Can't. Too busy," Rodney replied, still not looking up from his work.

John sighed. This, possibly the smartest man he had ever met, lacked even the slightest modicum of common sense. Didn't he realize that if he didn't eat, he could suffer from a hypoglycemic reaction? John wondered how he ever survived in the real world by himself.

"Here," Sheppard said, throwing McKay a Powerbar. "A present from Dr. Weir." Like the rest of the team, Elizabeth had suspected Rodney would skip out on lunch and jump straight to tinkering around with the apparatus and had thus acted accordingly.

Rodney sunk his teeth into the bar. Ambrosia. He was feeling better already. "Thanks," he muttered before getting back to what he was doing.

"Don't thank me. I would have let you starve," John kidded, an impish smile on his face. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of teasing McKay.

Rodney ignored the comment and continued to type on his keyboard. He pretended not to notice Major Sheppard lounge in a nearby chair, feet propped up on the desk. He slurped loudly on a Coke he had brought in.

"Stop slurping."

Silence.

"So…. What's it do?" John inquired as he placed the soft drink on a nearby piece of equipment.

"I don't know yet, Major. And could you _please_ remove your feet from the desk? _Some_ people try to maintain a clean workspace, you know. And get that drink off that machine! Do you the millions of dollars in damage you could cause?"

Ignoring the last part, John asked, "What do you mean, you don't know? You've been in here-" he checked his watch, "- almost two hours and you don't know anything about it?"

"Clean out those ears of yours, Major. I never said I don't know anything about it. I said I don't know what it _does_."

"Same thing."

McKay scoffed. "Hardly. From what I can tell, this here," he explained, pointing to the lowest of four controls, "is a sort of 'on/off' switch. It's what Carson touched earlier. He must have turned it on, according to the power readings I'm getting, thus activating the sliding panel with the words on it."

"Wow. An 'on/off' switch. That's very technical, Rodney."

"I'm just keeping it in simple terms you can understand. Now, this here," he moved on, pushing the second control, "is the equivalent of the 'clear' button on a calculator. I think it erases the device's memory."

"You know, if you're going to be working with this thing for a while," John interrupted, "you have to stop calling it 'the device.' Give it a name already."

"Oh, excuse me for being too busy - working hard at my _job -_ to make it easier for all you plebeians to distinguish 'the device' from all the other highly technological pieces of equipment. But since you obviously have so much spare time on your hands, I'm sure you have a suggestion?"

"Actually, I thought I'd let Lt. Ford take this one. He thought maybe 'Campbell.'"

"'_Campbell_?'"

"Yeah. You know, because it looks like a giant Campbell's soup can." John shrugged.

Rodney looked at him, not amused. _Is this what these halfwit blockheads do in their spare time? I can't believe I share the same species as these dolts_…. "Anyway, moving on. The third switch inputs the 'set' or 'enter' command, and the forth and final button is the 'discharge' command."

"'Discharge?' I don't know if I like the sound of that…."

"Settle down, Major. We're perfectly safe."

"Uh-huh," John frowned. "I feel better already. So how do you get it to work?" John asked, fingering the Ancient writing. When nothing happened, he tapped at the panel, as if it would magically light up and come alive.

McKay looked at the military man pitifully. _That's just sad. But alas, not everyone is blessed with my talent and brains._ "All I have to do, I assume, is input the correct sequence of commands using a little something I like to call 'the _right_ way….'"

John rolled his eyes. Good Lord, didn't McKay ever get tired of hearing himself praise _himself_? Probably not.

Rodney made a big show of depressing the 'set' button, like he was some sort of hero for figuring out what it did, like he was the first person to ever invent a switch.

"And…?" John prompted when nothing happened.

"And now I hit the 'discharge' switch…." He reached for the control.

John stood suddenly. He wasn't so sure that was a good idea. "McKay, maybe you shouldn't-"

But the damage had already been done. As soon as the astrophysicist's finger had flicked the switch, a brilliant white light radiating from Campbell engulfed them while a powerful shockwave flung the pair back toward the wall.

TBC

* * *

Okay, so I couldn't resist a tiny little cliffhanger, even if it IS a lighthearted fic. 

And if you're thinking the dynamic duo switches bodies... nope. Bwah.


	3. Headaches Suck

**Per Alicus Oculae**

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews, and I love the guesses as to what's happening! None of you got it quite right, but I will say goldanima was the closest. Not entirely correct, but close. :)

I have to say I'm really proud of this chapter for some strange reason. I think I had too much fun writing Rodney in this one. It kinda came naturally, which is really scary, because that means I think like him. And if I'm thinking like him, that means I need my head checked out. :)

**Chapter 3: Headaches Suck**

Tylenol. A big honkin' bottle of Tylenol is what he needed right about now. Maybe if he took all 250 of the bottle's pills that little gnome inside his head trying to burrow its way out with a sledgehammer would leave him alone.

John chose to keep his eyes closed for the moment. Regaining consciousness was a good first step, but one thing at a time. No need to be an overachiever. He tried to remember the last thing that happened. _I was in the lab, that Ancient machine, Campbell, was hooked up to all these instruments, there was a bright flash, and McKay and I were thrown backwards_….

_McKay! I'm gonna kill him, I swear to God_….

His first mistake was opening his eyes too quickly as his retinas were immediately assaulted by the bright, artificial overhead lights of the infirmary. _Okay, I'm in the infirmary. Nothing new there. _Truth be told, it was one of his least favorite spots in the grand city, but one of his most frequented. He should put down a mortgage on the place so often he stayed. John had been in more scrapes than he could count and had more injuries than he cared to remember, so the infirmary was like his second home.

Groaning, the major tried to roll to his side. Noticing the movement, one of the nurses called out for a doctor.

_Yes, I agree. Someone get a doctor, please, _John thought. _My head's going to explode_….

"Doctor! Doctor!" she continued calling to someone.

_Jeez, what is it with that lady? Can't she keep it down?_

"Doctor! Doctor? Are you alright?" came the high-pitched voice again.

_Great, what happened now? _John wondered, annoyed. As if his day wasn't bad enough already, he had to deal with Ms. Helium Voice nurse here and now possibly an injured Carson. _Someone shoot me_….

Opening his eyes once more, he found the nurse was studying _him_. John looked about, confused. There were no other patients on any of the nearby cots, so she _must_ have been talking to him. "What, me? Yeah, I, uh… I'm fine, I guess." _What is _with _her?_

The nurse, one which Major Sheppard realized he did not recognize (which was odd, considering the number of times he'd been in the med wing), gave him a reassuring but plastic smile. "Good. You gave us all quite a worry there, Doctor."

"Look, that's the second time you've called me that."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the young woman apologized. Clearly, she was green and inexperienced. "'Doctor Sheppard?'" she tried again, hoping she had corrected her mistake.

_Oh boy. Maybe I have a concussion, too._

The nurse - 'Trisha Harland' her nameplate said - continued on, poring over some papers attached to the end of John's bed. "You were going over some of our patients' files when we think you accidentally slipped on some spilled coffee. You must have hit your head on a cot on the way down, because Nurse Gregor and I found you unconscious about ten minutes ago, sprawled out on the floor."

John looked up at her in utter bewilderment, using a few seconds to process what he had just been told. _Doctor. Coffee. Slipped. Unconscious_. "Huh?" was all he could manage.

Trisha held up a pen light and peered into John's eyes. He squinted against the sudden brightness but sat obediently still. He'd been through this little number so many times he could do it in his sleep.

"Well, the good news is you've got no signs of a concussion," she concluded after asking a few simple questions of the major. "Looks like you're all set to get back to work, Doctor. Doctor Sheppard. Sorry."

All he could do is stare at the woman for several beats, baffled, before looking down at his watch. The date registered June 3. _So it's not an April Fools joke_…. _Just what in the hell is going on here?_

"Look, I don't know what anyone told you, ma'am," he explained, chuckling slightly at the absurdity of it all, "but I'm not a doctor. I don't know the first thing about medicine, other than some basic field training. I'm a major in the United States Air Force. A pilot."

Trisha stared down at him, contemplating. Suddenly, she burst out laughing, which only confused John all the more. "That's a good one, Doc. A joke, right? Getting back at us nurses for hiding all your gauze patches? Well, rest up a bit more if you need to; I'll be back to check on you in a few minutes." She began to walk away.

"Wait, I'm serious! I'm an officer in the Air Force, have been since 1992. I flew choppers: Blackhawks, Apaches, Cobras, Ospreys…. Up until last year, I was stationed at McMurdo in Antarctica before coming here to Atlantis. Look," he said, reaching around his neck for his dog tags. They weren't there. _Shit. Must've forgotten to put them on this morning. _"My serial number is 306784159 AF."

Trisha took it all in silently. She looked at the man before him, his eyes full of confusion but pleading with her at the same time to understand. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, Doctor Sheppard?"

John expelled a lungful of air, exasperated. "For the last time, I am _not _a doctor! Never was, and sure as hell never will be!"

"Okay, I think we all need to just calm down a little bit…."

"I'll calm down when you stop calling me 'doctor,' how's that?" John stood to leave but stopped short when he caught his reflection in the screen of one of the monitors. _What the…?_

It was him, all right, dressed head to toe in a white lab coat. A stethoscope hung loosely around his neck, and where his P-90 should have been clipped to his vest, a pocket full of pens, measurement charts, and a thermometer stood out.

_Okay, this is… different. _"Where's Beckett?" he asked the nurse. "I need to talk to Beckett."

She cocked her head. "Beckett? _Carson _Beckett?"

"Yes, Carson Beckett," John said through clenched teeth. He thought maybe some of Rodney's impatience was starting to rub off on him.

Trisha shook her head, still confused. "I don't know…. The Jumper Bay maybe…."

"Why? What is the chief doctor doing in the Jumper Bay? Is he taking one out, going to the mainland?"

She gave him a small, nervous smile. Trisha decided to use his first name in an effort to calm him down. "John, _you're _the chief medical doctor. You have been since we arrived here, nearly a year ago. Your file says you specialize in rheumatology, but you also work in the fields of immunology, cardiology, and genetics. You got your degree from Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore in 1992, and you completed your residency at the Cleveland Clinic."

He looked at her like she had just spoken a foreign language. _This is just too weird. _"Okay, I have to go now…." Major Sheppard took one step toward the exit before being stopped by a hand on his arm.

"Oh no, Doctor. I'm going to have to keep you for observation. You seem a little… out of it."

I _seem a little out of it? _This was the last thing he needed: yet another stay in the infirmary. He had somehow miraculously acquired a degree in medicine, he had apparently slipped and fallen to the floor, Rodney was nowhere to be seen, and he had no explanation for any of it whatsoever. And to top it all off, he was being held captive by a nurse who sounded like she was a member the Lollipop Guild. All of a sudden, his headache had just gotten worse.

_Oh, I _so_ don't need this right now_…. _Somehow I don't think we're in Kansas anymore._

"Got anymore of that Tylenol?"

* * *

_Okay, what smells like dead cat? No, not dead cat. Opossum. Dead opossum. And garbage. And some of that stuff they use to preserve organs and… well, dead things and whatnot. What is the name of that stuff, anyway? Formaldehyde, that's it. I remember this one time in biology class Susie Walker spilled a jar of it on the teacher. Now _that _was funny. Ah, Susie Walker_….

McKay slowly opened his eyes to the glow of firelight. Patterns of the flame's light danced on the 'ceiling' - more like a tarp from what Rodney could discern - and bathed the surrounding area in a cozy warmth. _Hey, this is kind of nice. I could get use to this._

_Ah! What the hell? _Reaching around underneath him, McKay pulled out from under his body a decent-sized stone covered in dirt. As he moved his hand about, he realized the entire floor was composed of dirt. _So, is this what Elizabeth has done to the place? Wow, it's really gone downhill. I mean, I didn't expect a five-star hotel when I came to Atlantis, but a floor would certainly be nice. Ford and Sheppard must've trashed it. Someone's going to have to teach them a little something about interior decorating._

With a deep breath, the scientist sat up. To his (mild) surprise, he found himself inside a primitive looking tent, the walls and ceiling of which being composed of five white, taut canvases. Inside sat a small table, on which was placed a wooden bowl, some herbs, crude hunting tools, candles, and a satchel. On the wall hung several animal skins and primitive artwork.

_Okay, so I've traveled back in time to the age of the Native Americans; that's it, isn't it?_

Rodney would have liked to been more surprised, because the fact that he wasn't mean he was growing accustomed to the strange surprises the Pegasus Galaxy had to throw at him, and that in itself was scary. But he was forced to admit to himself that he had seen and experienced far weirder things than waking up in Pocahontas's tent.

He sniffed the air once more. There was that damn smell again…. Sniffing himself, he immediately jerked his head back in disgust. _Ugh! But I just took a shower this morning… maybe not. Maybe it's my deodorant_…. _Oh, I forgot to out deodorant on today, right?_

For the first time, Rodney actually looked at himself. _Oh God, what am I wearing? It looks like a cross between a hippie's outfit from the 1960s, something from the local Renaissance Festival, and a Mongolian's dead animal fur._ _And it reeks. I'm sure they can smell it all the way back on Earth. Does this actually pass as fashion in some cultures? And I use both the terms 'fashion' and 'culture' loosely_….

He stood, an error on his part, for the sudden movement caused his head to spin. A headache at one of his temples made its presence known.

Stumbling out of the tent like a drunk making his way to the bathroom, Rodney looked around. There were dozens of tents, all similar in shape and color to his, and all arranged in columns and rows. Off to one side, a small tilled patch of soil sprouted some sort of greenery. Camp fires burned at various spots around the settlement. Numerous people milled about, all similarly dressed as him, coming and going from one tent or another.

And then it dawned on him: he knew where he was. He was on the mainland, at the Athosian encampment. _But how did I get here?_

_The device. I hit the discharge button. Oh boy, the major's going to kill me_…. _Where is he, anyway? If we were both in the same room when it went off, he must be here, too. Right? _For all his reasoning, Rodney wasn't entirely convinced his theory was correct.

"Hey! You!" he shouted brashly at one of the Athosians, a man carrying a basket of vegetables. The man turned to see who had hailed him.

"Yeah, _you_," Rodney continued as he approached the Athosian.

"Ah, Rodney, what can I do for you?" he asked politely.

"Oh," McKay answered, somewhat surprised. "You know my name. Good. How do you know my - nevermind. It doesn't matter; I should've assumed news of me and my work have traveled to all corners of the galaxy by now. Listen, where's Major Sheppard?"

"Major Sheppard? I… I am not sure…."

"Okay, fine." His fuse was short already. "Can you tell me how I got here then?"

"You appeared to have walked over from your tent-"

He was stopped by a cutting motion from Rodney's hand. "No, no, I don't mean _here _here, I mean here on the mainland here."

"Oh, I understand. Well you see, when your father and mother decided to have a child back on Athos-"

"What? What are you talking about? Listen, buddy, I'm a bit short on time here; don't have all day. Can we fast forward a few years to the present maybe?"

The Athosian was growing increasingly uneasy from Rodney's odd behavior. Little did he know this was how the scientist acted all the time. "Uh… all right…. As you recall, the Wraith attack on our home planet those many months ago forced us to flee to Atlantis. Soon after the discovery of the continent, we settled here on the mainland. Surely you remember?"

"Yeah, I _remember_, but why do you keep using word like 'we' and 'us?'" McKay threw his hands in the air, frustrated. "You know what? I don't care. I don't care. Just tell me how I lost consciousness; can you do that?"

"I am sorry, I do not know-"

"Is there anything you _do _know?" _Athosian imbeciles. I'm marooned on a planet in a distant galaxy populated by Athosian imbeciles whom I wouldn't trust with a spoon without betting they'd hurt themselves with it. _He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. "Can you at least tell me where my clothes are then?"

The poor man was baffled by Rodney's rant and odd question. "From what I can tell, you are wearing them."

McKay rolled his eyes. Fuse: now lit. "Yes, that's quite perceptive of you. Tell me, do all your people have as razor-sharp powers of observation as you do? Are they as on-the-ball as you so obviously are?"

The sarcasm was lost on the man, who struggled with a response. "Well, yes, I suppose-"

"Forget it. I'll try again: where are my clothes, my Atlantis expedition uniform? You know, the nice khaki and dark blue jacket with matching khaki pants and light blue shirt? The ones I'm always in? Sets off my shoulders nicely? Hello, ring any bells?"

The man shook his head as he thought and shrugged. "You have no such clothing to my knowledge, Rodney."

He could tell this Athosian was going to be of no help whatsoever. "Right. Whatever you say. And it's '_Doctor McKay,' _by the way."

By now, that man was so befuddled and dazed by what Rodney had been saying he thought it best to just agree with him. "All right, Doctor McKay… if that is what you wish to be called now…."

"Of course it's 'what I wish to be called!' What are you, a friggin' cyborg? It's only my proper title, and I'll have you know I worked hard for that degree. It's not easy being head of your class with a half dozen kiss-asses trying to worm their way into your spot by ingratiating themselves with the professor. Marty Schuman, he was something. It was always, 'Can I do this for you, Professor?' or 'I'm going to the café; what can I get for you, Professor?' Please. You know what that got him? _Nothing_, that's what. Here I am, head of the science team of the Atlantis expedition, in the goddamn _Pegasus Galaxy _for crying out loud, and where's Mary Schuman? Probably at home, living out of his mother's basement, and if he's lucky, working his nine to five at the local McDonald's asking 'Would you like fries with that?'"

Silence. The Athosian was beyond confused now.

"I…" he began.

"And you know what else?" McKay interrupted. "It really goads me when someone doesn't call me 'Doctor.' Not because I need my ego stroked or anything…." He though about that for a second and ultimately decided he was wrong in that assessment. "Anyway, I just think when one achieves as high a status as myself, one has earned the respect of the others around him. I mean, if you were elected Prime Minister, wouldn't you want to be called 'Prime Minister' instead of Joe… or whatever your name is? Wouldn't you?"

"I, uh… I suppose…."

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying! I'd just like the proper respect every now and then, unless of course it was a hot chick… then she could call me whatever she wanted. I wouldn't care, as long as she was actually _talking_ to me. You know how hard it is to get a beautiful woman to talk to you? Of course you do." He paused, sidetracked. "But you know what I _don't_ like about the whole 'Doctor' title thing? It's not clear, not concise enough. I mean, as a scientist, you're trained to be clear and concise in everything you do, so don't you find it ironic that science is the only field in which titles can be a bit ambiguous? For example, if I was to introduce myself as Dr. McKay, as I so often do, would you assume I hold a doctorate in the field of astrophysics? Or medicine? Or anthropology? Or the art of blowing up nice little balloons and twisting them into cute, furry animals?" He looked to the man for an answer.

"Rodney, I believe you are confused-"

He scoffed. "You bet I'm confused. Just how scientists in two fields as blatantly dissimilar as medicine and astrophysics - although I have some serious qualms about medicine being characterized as a science - can share the same title, I'll never know-"

"That is not what I mean."

McKay looked at 'Joe' - or whatever his name was - like he had just sprouted a second head. "What are you talking about?"

"Rodney…." 'Joe' spoke softly, so as not to startle McKay with what he was about to say. "Rodney, you are not one of these 'doctors.' You do not have a degree in astrophysics," he explained, pronouncing the unfamiliar words with some trouble. "You are a leader. _Our_ leader, the leader of the Athosians."

McKay didn't respond, couldn't respond. He just looked at the Athosian with a sort of half-smile, half-frown, all-bewildered look on his face. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, his jaw opened and closed like a fish gasping its last breaths of air.

Thankful for the rare interruption in Rodney's ramblings, the Athosian took the opportunity to leave, and wisely so. If McKay started up again on one of his lectures, the man might not ever get a chance to escape.

Rodney's eyes followed 'Joe,' watching him quickly duck into a nearby tent. _Oh boy, things really got screwed up this time. I _so_ hope this is one of those things I can't possibly be blamed for._

He re-evaluated his last thought.

_Yep, I'm a dead man._

TBC

* * *

'What the huh?' you might be saying? I promise, it will be explained later on. And no, there is no switching bodies involved whatsoever:)


	4. Acetawhosawhatsit?

**Per Alicus Oculae**

**A/N: **Special thanks to Dr. Dredd for beta-ing this chapter. Love your reviews, guys, and I'm glad you're liking the story! Don't worry, we'll see some familiar faces around Atlantis as the story progresses, and we do find out what's going on, just not in this chapter, although I do drop a couple of hints here and there...

Sara: No ship this time, sorry! Although I did write the first chapter to the sequel of Strange Bedfellows, so don't worry! It's going to take some time to get it right, though.

TubaPrincess: I guess you'll have to wait and see if they learn anything out of this. But keep in mind, this IS Rodney and John we're talking about, lol.

**Chapter 4: Aceta-whosa-whatsit?**

_Well I guess it's a good thing, for Rodney's sake at least, that I'm being held captive in the infirmary - _my_ infirmary apparently. Let's face it, if I was let out, there's just no telling what I'd do to that idiot, and I can't promise I'd be held responsible for my actions._

As John lolled lazily on one of the med wing's cots, rolling a coin from one knuckle to the other in a pathetic attempt to keep himself from dying of boredom while simultaneously pondering various creative ways to kill McKay, he realized this might just be the weirdest, most freakish, odd, bizarre day of his life. And he had thought learning he had some Ancient, mutant gene and hearing some round thing called a 'Stargate' could instantly transport people to other galaxies - both in the span of about fifteen minutes - had messed with his head.

"Feeling better, Doctor?" the other nurse, Nurse Gregor, asked. At least there was some blissful relief in not having to hear Trisha's grating, nasally, inhumane excuse for a voice.

John shut his eyes and let out a long breath. He swore if anyone called him 'Doctor' one more time... _Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? _"Yeah. Much better, thanks. Listen, if we could just forget about that whole I'm-not-a-doctor, I'm-in-the-Air-Force thing...?"

The way he figured it, if he just played along for a little while - at least until he found McKay - maybe they could figure out what the hell was going on. _But first thing first: convince Nurse What's-Her-Name that you're not a whackjob and get the hell out of this infirmary._

At that moment, Trisha walked into the room, now back from her lunch break and having obviously heard John's question. She had a silly phony smile plastered on her face that made Sheppard want to throw up. _God, why me? Could this day possibly get any worse? _he thought._ Never mind. Don't answer that._

"So it _was _a joke then," Trisha said, a confident look upon her face. "I _knew_ it. But if you ask me, Doctor," she continued, lowering her voice to a level barely above a whisper, "it wasn't that good. I mean, a pilot in the Air Force? Come on! You can do better than that. Who'd ever believe you're in the military anyway? Between you and me, you'd make one lousy pilot!"

The two nurses shared in the joke, both laughing hysterically. John didn't see what was so funny. First, the woman doesn't believe him, and then she _insults_ him? All he could do was glare at the pair as they fought for breath, the joke now over.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Major Sheppard said flatly. Suddenly he stood and clapped his hands together. "Okay, great. Now that that's taken care of, I'm just going to head on over to the control room and have a nice long chat with Elizabeth-"

"Oh no, Doctor. I'm afraid we're going to have to keep you just a while longer for observation," the older nurse replied in an informative tone. So apparently Nurse Gregor hadn't entirely fallen for it. _Damn._

All of a sudden it dawned on John. According to them, however delusional they might be, _he _was the chief doctor. This was _his _med wing, and that meant _they _were under his command. He didn't have to take orders from these two nurses.

"Look." He had tried to be polite, he really had, but he just couldn't take it anymore. "I have a monster-ass headache right now, so I really don't need any of your crap. So you both can just take your-"

Before he could tell them where to take their order and shove it, the door to the infirmary burst open. Through it came two Marines hurriedly carrying a third unconscious man dressed in civilian attire between them. The blue shirt, khaki pants and jacket denoted scientist, not to mention the thick Steve Urkel-like glasses perched on the young man's nose, complete with tape on the bridge and all.

John first got a look at him as he was laid down on a nearby cot. _What the...? _"Ford?"

"We found him in the hallway outside one of the labs," one of the Marines explained. "We were completing our daily rounds when we came across him, unconscious, on the floor. Teyla said he'd been complaining of flu-like symptoms yesterday - at least that's what it sounded like to me. But I couldn't be sure..."

The Marine looked up at John. He was clearly unsure of himself and now looked to the 'Doctor' for answers. In fact, all four pairs of eyes were upon him, waiting for him to make the call.

_Oh shit... oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit..._. The major didn't know what to do. This little smoke and mirrors game - whatever it was - while aggravating, had been harmless up until now. Now someone's life was possibly at stake. Worse, one of John's teammates and good friend's life was at stake.

Frustration began to boil up inside of him. He was a fighter pilot, goddammit, not a doctor. He was trained to take out the enemy, not to cure illnesses. Ask him to charge into enemy territory? Sure, no problem. Tell him to take on a Wraith Hive Ship? Done. Ask him to treat a nasty little virus? Well, you'd have better luck trying to get a Volkswagen to fly.

_Okay, calm down, _John told himself. _It's just the flu, right? You've had the flu before. What happens when you get the flu? You throw up, get dehydrated. Okay, so that means... what exactly? _Sheppard fought to remember all those times he had been a prisoner - er, patient - in the infirmary. He had seen Beckett work his magic before many times. _Where's Beckett when you really need him?_

_So when someone's dehydrated, you have to pump fluids in them, right? Okay, think. What would Beckett do? IV! He'd always put an IV in first!_

"All right," he said, taking command. "Get an IV going of..." He faltered. _Crap. What was it called? 'S', something with an 's...' _"Ss... saline! Yeah, saline whatchamacullit. You," he said, pointing to Trisha, "take his vitals." _That's what Beckett had always said, right? 'Take his vitals?'_

Aiden started to groan as he slowly regained consciousness.

"If he has a fever, give him some, uh, Tylenol," John continued, hoping he wasn't killing his friend.

"How many milligrams of the acetaminophen did you want, Doctor?" Trisha asked.

He looked at her blankly, all color draining from his face. Trisha really wasn't his favorite person right about now. _Aceta-whosa-whatsit? _Seeing that she was holding up the bottle of Tylenol, he realized she was simply asking how much of the medicine to give to Ford.

"Oh, right. Uh, give him 'two capsules every four to six hours as needed,'" he directed, quoting what he could remember from the back of every Tylenol box he ever opened. He just hoped the same directions applied in this case. John chose to ignore the 'use as directed' and 'ask your doctor if...' warnings he also recalled. _Oh, the irony._

The two nurses simply stared at him for his display of odd behavior before one hard look from Sheppard got them to scramble into action. As they worked, it looked to John as if they had everything under control. Hell, as nurses, they'd probably treated more cases of the flu than he had, so he trusted the lieutenant was in good hands. After all, it was only a little virus, even if it _did_ seem like an outbreak of the Black Plague to John...

The two Marines - sergeants, Sheppard noticed as he glanced at their insignia - also observed. Major Sheppard had a sneaking suspicion they were still in the med wing simply to avoid doing their daily assignments, shirking their duty.

"You're dismissed now, sergeants," he informed them, forgetting his role.

Both military men cast inquisitive stares at John, wondering why exactly a _medical doctor _had just ordered them to leave. And just where had the good doctor learned to identify military rank anyway?

John caught his mistake. He was supposed to be a physician, after all. "Oh, I mean, you can go now, Marines. Thank you both for bringing Ford here in."

John watched as, reluctantly, the soldiers left. Luckily, they seemed to have dismissed his slip-up as the usual jitters behavior brought on by stressful situations. And the nurses didn't seem to catch it; they were too busy tending to the lieutenant.

Letting out a lungful of air, Sheppard plopped himself into a nearby chair and ran his hand through his hair. He'd take a bombing run behind enemy lines over what he'd just done any day. _Just what is going on here? First, I'm Atlantis's resident doctor, and now Ford's apparently a scientist? And just where the hell is Rodney? _As he watched Nurses Harland and Gregor work, he figured now as good as any a time to escape. He had some serious issues to discuss with Dr. Weir.

* * *

McKay walked in tight circles around the entrance to what was evidently his tent. There was a problem that he had no answer to, and he didn't like that, couldn't _stand_ that. Worse, it was a problem he couldn't solve - not that he would ever admit that to anyone - just yet, not without finding Sheppard and the others. A puzzle he couldn't solve without all the pieces was more aggravating than sitting in a gridlock during rush hour traffic on the way to the DMV for Rodney McKay. 

He did have a theory, though, on why all this was happening. Rodney remembered back to the time when the 'other' Weir - the 10,000 year-old one - had been discovered in a cryogenic sleep in one of the city's labs. She had traveled back in time... In any case, he needed more information before he jumped to any conclusions.

All he knew what that he _certainly _wasn't the leader of the Athosians - Teyla was (_wherever she is_, he added to himself) - and that he _really_ had to use the bathroom. McKay didn't know where they were, but it didn't take an astrophysicist to discern that since there were no visible toilets and the woods were only a few meters away... He hadn't expected there to be public restrooms, but no matter how full his bladder was, he wasn't going down that road. _Not a chance in hell._

The whir of engines suddenly broke the scientist's thoughts. Looking up, he spotted a Puddle Jumper circling in for a landing a couple dozen feet away. It kicked up dust as it was softly set down next to the encampment.

_Oh thank God, _McKay thought as he walked briskly toward the Ancient vessel. _Finally, I can get away from these primitive, uncouth people and back to a civilization that evolution _hasn't_ passed up._

Expecting to see the major walk out of the rear hatch, McKay was quite shocked to see Beckett emerge, dressed in full military garb - P-90 and all - and carrying several crates of supplies to deliver to the Athosian encampment. Carson spotted him right away.

"Rodney, there you are," he greeted in his usual jovial manner, accent thick.

"Beckett, you have _no_ idea how good it is to see you," McKay responded, filled with relief. At last, a familiar face. "Finally worked up the nerve to take a Jumper out by yourself, eh, Carson?" he asked with a grin.

"One of my supply runs. Plus, Weir was looking for you; she didn't want you to be late."

"Late?"

"Aye, for your weekly class?" Carson looked to Rodney to make sure he knew what he was talking about.

Rodney hadn't the faintest idea. "Remind me again what I'm teaching her? What, did she want to know about wormhole physics or something?" _Couldn't Zelenka or someone else take the time to explain the intricacies of wormhole theory? Surely someone of my caliber can't be expected to have the time or the patience to sit down with every single uneducated, lucky-to-pass-middle-school knucklehead on the base and give them a crash course in Subspace 101._

Beckett stopped what he was doing, trying to decide if Rodney had just made a joke or not. _Wormhole physics? From an Athosian? _In either case, he decided the man had and moved on. "Not quite," he answered with a sly smile. "Anyway, she thought you'd might like a ride back to the base...?"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence before he was watching Rodney practically sprint into the Jumper, so eager was he to leave. _Ah, back to a place the Industrial Revolution hasn't skipped over, _the Canadian thought gratefully.

As Beckett settled in to the pilot's seat, McKay spoke up. "So where's the war, Rambo?"

"What do you mean?" Carson inquired, not looking up from the dials he was pushing as part of the pre-flight checklist.

Gesturing to the man's impressive collection of firearms, flak jacket, and BDUs, Rodney replied in a joking manner, "Oh, I don't know... do doctors always carry around a 9mm pistol and a P-90 submachine gun? Let me guess: some new dress code Elizabeth put in place I don't know about? Or is there a new ethics policy for practicing medicine?"

Carson just laughed as the Jumper took to the air. "That's very funny, Rodney. You know Weir made me the military second-in-command. I wouldn't trade 'doctor' for my lieutenant's post, son."

McKay just stared at him, mouth agape. His face did this funny little thing where it registered shock, then confusion, then it almost made it to uncertainty, but not quite - as if the muscles in his face weren't use to responding to the emotion the sharp scientist didn't experience often. It was several seconds before he could even form a coherent thought. _What the...? I thought Lt. Ford was the 2IC? And now Beckett is in the Marines and has his position?_

"You alright there, Rodney? You looked a little... dazed."

Rodney was still a few beats behind, though - something he wasn't use to at all. "I'm... uh, listen, can you tell me why I'm in these clothes?" he asked as his senses returned. He was dying to ditch these heavy Athosian garbs and it was only natural for the self-absorbed scientist's first reasoned thought to be about himself.

Shrugging, Carson replied, "If you'd like, you can change into some workout attire, lad. I'm sure one of the Marines your size an extra pair lying around somewhere-"

"Workout attire?"

"Aye. For your sparring lesson with the major."

_Sparring lesson..._. It took him a few moments for what Carson had just said to register. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no," McKay asserted, backing away into a corner of the cabin as the panic began to well up inside him. He'd seen the major and Teyla spar before, and if that was any indication of what he was in for, he was a dead man. Hand-to-hand combat was _not _his specialty, it was John's. Plus, Sheppard would surely have a bone to pick with McKay over all of this. _He is _so _going to kick my ass..._.

"All right, calm down," 'Lieutenant Beckett' replied defensively to McKay's odd reaction. "It's just clothing; you don't have to change if you don't want to. I'd just thought you'd be more comfortable wearing..."

McKay let Beckett trail off as his thoughts took him elsewhere. Something Beckett had said struck him as odd. Something about the sparring session, something about 'the major.' And if his suspicions were correct, it'd only help to substantiate his theory...

"Beckett," Rodney interrupted. "You said I was sparring with...?"

"The major, aye."

"And that would be who exactly...?"

"Major Weir, of course."

All the color drained from the astrophysicist's face as the implications dawned on him. He let out a tiny groan. _Oh boy, do I hate being right all the time._

* * *

John strode purposefully through the corridors of the city, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure a certain pair of Nazi nurses weren't still intent on keeping him confined to the infirmary. He just wasn't staying there one more second; he needed to find out what was going from Elizabeth. 

Rounding the corner and climbing up the stairs, John entered the control room. Expecting to find Dr. Weir in her office, he was shocked to see her standing confidently behind one of the Gate technicians - moreover, in full military dress. Her red blouse was replaced by the standard-issue black tee; gone was her gray and crimson expedition jacket, exchanged instead for the gray and black jacket of the military; in place of the heart-shaped pendant hanging from her neck, a P-90 dangled from her Kevlar vest.

_Whoa, _he thought. That certainly was _not_ something he expected to see, not in a million years. _But maybe in one seriously screwed up day, courtesy of Rodney McKay, _he corrected himself.

"Open the iris," he heard Elizabeth order with authority. So busy trying to figure out why exactly the leader of the expedition was now in full blown gung-ho mode was he that John didn't even notice the incoming wormhole. As the iris opened, Elizabeth took her place at the bottom of the staircase, P-90 up and aimed at the Gate as a precaution.

If his feet hadn't been rooted to the floor out of sheer disbelief, he might have asked her just what she thought she was doing, putting herself in the line of fire like that. Then he realized it's what he would have done. Hell, it's what he _had _done on many occasions, as protocol dictated when offworld teams returned to base. Thankfully, though, the return of an expedition team through the Stargate was uneventful; no enemy fire made it through the wormhole.

"Shut it down," she shouted back up to the control room. Obviously she had things under control. _At least that part of her hasn't changed._

As she passed him coming up the stairs, he hailed her. "Eliz-" He was cut short, though, when his eyes spotted the golden oak leaves on her uniform, denoting the rank of major. "_Major_ Weir?" he questioned, more to himself than anyone else.

"Yes, what can I do for you, Doc?" inquired Elizabeth, having obviously heard him.

"I... uh, I - hey, put that safety on, corporal!" he suddenly shouted to one of the Marines who was walking around freely with his pistol unholstered. Standard breach of safety procedure. _The idiot should have known better_, John grumbled to himself. Usually he was lax when it came to military procedures, but when safety was an issue...

The twenty-something people in the control room and the adjoining Gate room turned to look at Sheppard, wondering a) how exactly the untrained eye of a medical doctor had seen the safety of a 9mil was in the off position from across the room, b) how a civilian with no military experience had identified the rank of corporal, and c) why exactly a physician was ordering around a Marine.

Weir just cocked an eyebrow at him and hid a grin, nonplussed but amused at John's strange outburst. "Been spending some time studying up on military protocol, John?" she jested.

_You could say that, considering I've spent almost my entire goddamn life in the Air Force! _he screamed inside his head, irritated.

"I, um, just didn't want him to put anyone's eye out, that's all. You know, 'safety first' and all that," he justified, forcing a laugh. He knew a lame excuse when he heard when - even if it did come from his own mouth.

Elizabeth just made a small "hmmm" noise, apparently not too concerned with Sheppard's antics. "As you were," she called to her people, who finally stopped staring and went back to work.

"What's up with the oak leaves?" he asked her.

She glanced at her shoulder. "Oh, these? You remember: I got my promotion last month. Apparently, someone thought I had sat at Captain for long enough," she quipped.

Sheppard didn't know what to say. "Promotion, right... and you're... the _military_ chief?"

Casting him a questioning smile, she responded, "Yeah, you know that."

_Wait, she doesn't even_ like _the military. She doesn't even like _guns. Then another thought occurred to him. _Then who is Atlantis's leader? _he wondered. "Right, listen... we have to talk."

"Can it wait, Doctor?" Elizabeth asked, glancing at her watch. "I've got a sparring lesson in about fifteen minutes."

"With Teyla?"

"Oh, Teyla's learned, too? If you see her, ask her if she wants to take me on sometime soon, say, tomorrow at noon? Anyway, this one's with Rodney. He's still trying to get me to move my feet quicker, but he's said I've improved."

John stopped listening half way through. "_Rodney_? As in Rodney _McKay_? As in Mr. I've-Never-Done-Anything-Physical-in-my-Life Rodney McKay?"

Laughing, Elizabeth chided, "You don't have to be jealous, John. You know, if you want to learn, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to teach you. It only takes a few weeks to get the basics down."

_Yeah, no kidding, _he thought. It had taken him nearly that amount of time to even be close to the same level as Teyla when she had taught him, and while he was quite skilled, she could still pummel him into oblivion. He had taken the lessons before, and they weren't easy. "Something tells me I'd be a fast learner. But I _would_ like to sit in on your lesson, if that's okay...?" He grinned, picturing Rodney attempting to spar with the Athosian fighting sticks. This he _had _to see.

"Sure; let's head over."

* * *

John entered the empty gym behind 'Major Weir,' eager to see what both Elizabeth and Rodney had. From a spectator's point of view at least, this was just going to be too much fun. All the frustration and anger he had felt from the past few hours evaporated as he thought of what laid ahead: Rodney no doubt getting his ass kicked. _Good, _John thought with an unsympathetic smile, _he deserves it. _He had offered to teach Rodney a thing or two a few weeks ago, but McKay had just brushed him off, calling the sport 'extremely uncivilized,' 'tacky,' and 'simply not worth my time.' 

Naturally, he wouldn't let it go too far. If the scientist looked like he was about to be diced up like a cucumber, John would put a stop to it, but until then he would relish seeing the cocky Canadian sweat under the pressure. _Oh, this is going to be good..._.

That was assuming, of course, that Rodney wasn't like the rest of them. What if John was the only one who remembered the Ancient device that got them into this whole thing? What if the real Rodney was somewhere else entirely, and this one about to spar with Elizabeth was just part of this fabricated illusion?

Major Sheppard knew that wasn't the case, however, as soon as the man in question hesitantly - and reluctantly - walked into the gym, accompanied by the military version of Carson Beckett. In fact, it looked to John as if Beckett was practically pushing Rodney in, so averse to the idea of sparring with the deadly fighting sticks was he. Rodney was simultaneously trying to worm his way out of the event by attempting to reason with Beckett... or with whoever would listen. Which, at the moment, was no one.

_Oh, yeah. That's definitely the Rodney we all know and love, _Sheppard thought sardonically. _Always the go-getter._

If any doubt over the authenticity of the Rodney standing at the other end of the gym still remained, it was abolished as soon as the astrophysicist caught sight of John, who was simply standing there, arms folded in delight, watching the entertainment unfold before him. The look of pure alarm that crossed McKay's face as soon as he spotted John told Sheppard he knew what he had done and assumed - correctly so - that John would be pissed at him for it.

Sheppard grinned patronizingly from ear to ear and threw him a small wave.

In response, McKay simply glared at his friend with his best _I-hate-you-_so_-much-for-allowing-this-to-go-on _look and went back to pleading with Beckett, who had just thrust two fighting sticks into his hands.

"No, no, no, I can't do that." He was speaking fast, his voice up an octave or two, with nervous laughter trying to mask his absolute terror. "With the sticks going _whoosh _a-and the twirling and t-the bruises... Am I the only one who realizes this is a _physica_l event here? I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not much of a physical kind of guy..." McKay smiled timidly and began to back away, his hands starting to shake slightly. "Oh, I just remembered! There's, ah, something I need to take care of in the, ah, control room. Yes, I think Bates left the coffee pot on by mistake, and as you know that can cause quite the disaster, so if you all will just excuse me-"

It was all just too much for John. Between his friend's obvious lack of a backbone and the highly flamboyant clothes he was wearing, John had to fight not to burst out in hysterical laughter. _Where's a camera when you need one?_

"Don't worry, McKay," Sheppard taunted. "They tell me you're quite the expert. I'm sure that session we had a few weeks ago will come in handy - oh, but wait. You skipped out on it. Hmm, that's too bad. You could have used it right about now." He made a _tsk-tsk _sound and smirked teasingly.

Rodney just glared and mouthed what looked like the words 'stuff a sock in it,' but John couldn't be sure. '_Stuff a sock in it?' _Sheppard thought, amused. _Is that really the best he could come up with? I hope that's not any indication of how he's going to do against Weir._

An overwhelming sense of déjà vu enveloped John. The military chief was about to take on the Athosian leader in a sparring session, though instead of it being he and Teyla, it was Drs. Weir and McKay.

Elizabeth, who by now had garnered a pair of Athosian weapons herself, walked up to Rodney and lowered her head in the traditional Athosian custom. Her head remained bowed as she waited for Rodney to reciprocate the gesture that would complete the customary pre-fight ritual.

"Oh, um... no thanks?" McKay squeaked nervously.

"If you insist..." Elizabeth said, confused but certainly not letting Rodney out of this one. She quickly twirled the sticks several times in preparation, crossing them once or twice for show. John had to hand it to her; she was good, and she certainly looked like she knew what she was doing. _Rodney is _so_ in over his head. She's going to eat him alive!_

Both Beckett and Sheppard's heads swiveled to Rodney and waited for his response. Apparently, McKay had just had the same thought run through his highly analytical mind as John had just had, because as soon as his brain had calculated his (fairly low) odds of survival, the scientist's eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

TBC

* * *

Aw, poor Rodney. I guess Doc Shep will have to practice after all. Dum dum dum! 


	5. Technobabble and Tigger

**Per Alicus Oculae**

**A/N: **Half way home, everybody! I said earlier that I wasn't going to make this a ship story, but I've gotten a few requests to insert a little interaction between Weir and Shep. And because I am a complete sucker, I -cough- _may_ have added a line or two in the final chapter. Should be enough to satisfy the shippers (I hope) and not too much to piss of everyone else, lol. Don't worry, I promise I won't ruin the McKay/Shep interaction, because it is _way_ to fun to have them annoying the hell out of one another. :)

Anywho, a few of you have given me your theories on who is who now in this fic, and they are mostly correct, but not quite. :) A lot is explained in this chapter.

Spoilers for 'Before I Sleep.' Hope you like.

**Chapter 5: Technobabble and Tigger**

McKay awoke to the sound of a cart being wheeled in his direction. He was lying flat on his back, on what felt like a cot… _a miserable, thin, highly uncomfortable cot. And that can only mean one thing: the infirmary. Remind me to tell Elizabeth to splurge a little so we can get some more cushioned beds in this place. I should at least be comfortable as I'm dying, for crying out loud._

"That 'manly hunger' get to you again?" a voice asked from his left. Rodney wasn't sure exactly who it was, but the tone of his voice was dripping with sarcasm, and _that _could only mean one thing: Sheppard.

The scientist slowly opened his eyes, still a bit woozy from his would-be-but-not-quite encounter with the Athosian twin sparring sticks. "Am I going to make it?" he asked melodramatically to anyone who would take pity on him.

John rolled his eyes. _I see he's back to normal already, _he mused.

After Rodney had seen that Elizabeth was about to pulverize him, he had hit the deck, unconscious. Luckily, John had known exactly what to do - and not because his supposed degree in medicine, but because his friend had blacked out so many times when faced with imminent danger in past situations that his entire team had become somewhat experts at helping the man come to. So McKay had been wheeled back to the infirmary, much to John's extreme chagrin, and there he had lied for nearly half an hour before he had woken.

Thankfully for them both, Sheppard had dismissed the two irritating nurses, using the excuse of giving them an early - and extended - dinner break. A three hours early, four hours long dinner break. Rank had its perks, after all, no matter military or civilian.

"How'd I do? Did I win?" Rodney asked, struggling to sit up and remember at the same time.

"You didn't _do_ anything. Round one went to the mat. You got one look at those weapons and _fainted_," John explained, emphasizing the last word as he remembered the Canadian's extreme displeasure at it being used. Sure enough, it got the desired effect: Rodney glaring at the major in vexation.

"I seem to recall us having this conversation before," he replied, rubbing his temples. "I thought we agreed 'passed out' was a much better substitution."

"_We _didn't agree to anything. And if you mean 'pathetic attempt at evading the facts while trying to mask your wimpy personality behind a euphemism' rather than 'substitution,' then yes, I suppose it is. Besides, Beckett said 'faint' was the proper medical term."

"Oh, and you would know. _Doctor_," McKay retorted with a snort.

Glancing around first to make sure Ford was still napping and to make certain no one else was listening, Major Sheppard snapped back, "Yeah, and whose fault is that? You just _had_ to play with those buttons on Campbell, just _had _to see what they did. Ever hear the expression 'curiosity killed that cat?' Or that little myth about Pandora's box?"

"Please, this is hardly the same, Major. Pandora was Greek," McKay grumbled.

John cast him a disbelieving look. "That's it? 'Pandora was Greek?' That's all you have to say for yourself?"

McKay looked up, mulled it over, and then shrugged. "Yes, I suppose. Oh, and that we're not of the species _Felis domestica_. Obviously."

"Well, I was thinking something more along the lines of Pandora still had hope in the box at least," John muttered.

"What, are you saying we don't? I take offense to that, Sheppard!"

"You _should. _Did you know I had to play doctor to Ford here - who's apparently taken over Zelenka's job as the second ranking science advisor, or so he told me - not to mention deal with these two demon nurses from hell?"

"Don't come crying to me," griped Rodney. "Try waking up draped in dead animal carcass! I look like a retarded Eskimo, Major! I don't know how Halling does it; these 'shirts' are entirely too tight across the chest for my liking, not to mention the stench wafting up from whatever sort of animal this had been…. Seriously, the Athosians need to look into some sort of detergent or something, because this thing smells like fresh road kill. Do you think they just happened across a poor deer that had been hit by a drunk Wraith Dart pilot or something and decided it would make a nice coat? Because that would be really disturbing, but highly probable considering what-"

"Rodney."

"Right, sorry."

They both took deep breaths and decided their minds would be put to better use thinking of constructive ways to rectify the situation rather than argue over who had it worse. Besides, the major had decided to forget about reigning terror and revenge on Rodney; seeing him faint was rewarding enough_. Oh, it's the simple things in life you really treasure_, he thought jokingly.

"Okay. So what do we know so far?" McKay began.

"Well," John thought, "I've apparently taken over Beckett's job as the head doctor here, and Ford is the second ranking science advisor instead of Zelenka."

"Geez, look at those glasses," Rodney marveled as he studied the sleeping lieutenant. And he had thought _he_ was a nerd. This guy had _tape_ on his glasses and a pocket protector to boot.

"Tell me about it," Sheppard agreed. "Oh, and Elizabeth has my spot as head honcho - er, honch_a_ - of the military. I found that one kind of amusing," he grinned.

"Carson picked me up on the mainland and told me he was the 2IC under Elizabeth. Don't you find it ironic that the two people on this base who hate violence the most are suddenly heading up the military?"

"I guess. But that doesn't mean-"

"_Hey_," Rodney interrupted, eyes lighting up. "I wonder who's taken my very esteemed yet highly demanding job as lead scientist." Apparently, any notion about him was far more important than anything John had to say. "It had better not be that damned Kavanagh," he mumbled.

"That also leaves Atlantis's team leader," the major input. "You don't think it's Teyla, do you? Or Bates?"

McKay simply shrugged and frowned. "Do you really think that's important, Major?" he asked testily.

Rolling his eyes, John thought, _Oh, okay, I see. When he wonders who's taken _his_ role, that's okay. But when I ask a simple question about someone else, heaven forbid, it's taboo. I should have known_….

"What's important is figuring out how to fix what we've done," the scientist continued.

"_We_?" John exclaimed, sitting straighter.

"It's a collective 'we,' Major. You were in the same room as I, after all,when it happened,so don't pretend not to share in the blame."

Knowing the best way around another argument was to just agree, John replied, "Fine. Whatever. I don't suppose there was any sort of user's manual that came with Campbell telling you how it works," he inquired sardonically, not really expecting a serious answer. Any second now McKay would open his mouth and spit back some witty retort about Ancient devices and user's manuals. Sometimes the scientist just didn't know the meaning of sarcasm.

John looked up, however, when there was silence. He could have sworn Rodney was avoiding his gaze, and that couldn't be good. "_McKay_…" he pressed.

"Hmm?" Rodney responded as he looked up, pretending not to have heard John's question.

"I _said_, I don't suppose there was any sort of user's manual that came with the damn thing telling you how it works. And I had better like the answer," Sheppard cautioned, praying McKay hadn't ignored instructions that the Ancients - the single most advanced civilization Earth had come across, the Gate builders - had passed down.

"Well," the astrophysicist began nervously, "Um, I suppose that depends on whether or not you define a 'user's manual' as an inscription carved neatly into the cave wall behind where the device was found…."

John stood abruptly, knocking over the chair as he did so. He was beyond pissed now. Any thought of forgiving McKay instantly went out the window. "I _knew_ it! Goddammit, Rodney! There were instructions about that damn thing and you ignored them, didn't you? Didn't you?"

Fearing for his life, Rodney got to his feet as well, safe for now so long as the cot remained between them. But John began to circle threateningly toward him, so Rodney was forced to retreat. "I didn't so much ignore them as I…," he searched for the right words, "… failed to realize their importance."

"'Failed to realize their _importance_?' You find _Ancient _text behind an _Ancient_ device, and you don't think that's _important_? Remind me again why I shouldn't kill you right this very second?"

By now the pair had crossed the room and Rodney scurried behind a table. "Because you're a good, honest soul who wouldn't take the life of an innocent, unarmed man, let alone that of your good friend?"

"Wrong. Not good enough, McKay…."

Rodney's mind was in panic-mode as he continued to flee, knocking down a stool in hopes of slowing Sheppard down. It didn't work. He couldn't think as John closed in, his white doctor's coat rapidly filling Rodney's vision. "Uh… remember the Hippocratic Oath!" was the only thing he could come up with.

It seemed to work, or at least stall the major, because he stopped his advance. "Why, what's it say?" he asked, genuinely interested.

_Crap. Hippocratic Oath, Hippocratic Oath_….McKay fought to remember. "Um… 'First, do no harm?' he squeaked."

John seemed to think about that one for a second, which allowed McKay to breathe a sigh of relief. That is, until John finished reasoning with himself and spoke up. "Yeah, but that only applies to doctor and patient. And _I'm_ not a doctor, and _you're_ not my patient. But if you'd like me to put you in a coma…." He began his advance once again.

The scientist began his hasty retreat, but it was a dead end. He flattened himself against the wall. Surely Sheppard wasn't going to hurt him. Right? "Um… ah… because I'm the only one on this base who can figure out what's going on and put things back to normal!" he tried, squeezing his eyes shut as his last-ditch effort escaped his mouth. John's fist was about to have a little date with his own jaw.

He opened them when the blow never came.

There stood John, arms crossed across his chest and a frown upon his face. "You are one lucky son of a bitch, I hope you know that," he said, eyebrows arched. Fortunately for McKay, the last answer he gave was the right one, and Major Sheppard knew it. If there was any hope left in getting things back to the way they were, it laid with this short, pudgy, arrogant egomaniac of a scientist. _Yep, _John thought. _We are so screwed._

"So you have any ideas? Theories?" wondered a decidedly calmer John as they both sat down at a nearby table.

"Yes, actually. Though you have to promise not to go all Terminator on me if you don't like them," McKay half-joked.

"Scout's honor."

"Were you even _in_ the Boy Scouts?"

"No."

"Great," Rodney responded dryly. "Well I guess that will have to do. Okay, theory number one: we've both gone insane and this is all just part of a highly elaborate, shared delusion."

Thinking for a moment, the major replied, "Nah, don't like that one."_Although I'm headed down the path to insanity nowthat I'm stuck here with McKay_."Next?"

"Me neither. Theory number two is a bit more complicated."

"Well, given what we know about the Ancients, it's probably the correct one then," said John wryly.

"My thoughts exactly. Do you remember the time we found the 10,000 year-old Weir in suspended animation?" John nodded. "Well, we know from that experience that the Ancients were obviously interested in time travel. At the time, I explained to Dr. Weir that according to the quantum theory, the universe is split into an infinite number of copies of itself in which every possible outcome to every decision ever made all exist somewhere in this infinitely layered multi-universe. The theory goes that some of these alternate realities are very different from what we know as reality, and some are almost identical."

He paused to make sure Major Sheppard was still following.

"Okay," Rodney continued, "according to the older Weir, there was a device in one of the Jumpers the first expedition team encountered, you remember?"

"Yeah," John responded. "We - _they_ used it to travel back in time."

"Yes, exactly. And as you probably know, even the smallest turn of events can greatly alter the course of history. Well I believe that this device I recently found on P7G-117 is similar to the device the alternate Weir's team discovered. Only instead of simply sending us back in time, it sent us to one of these parallel universes, one of these separate but concurrently existing realities where at some point - perhaps even back during the evolution of our cultures, who knows? - either one decision or a combination of several decisions was apparently made that altered the outcome of the Atlantis expedition. The same people are involved, only with different roles. So I guess this would qualify as one of those realities that are almost identical to ours."

John just stared at him, dumbfounded. Not that he didn't understand it, he just couldn't believe it. "Right. Whatever you say, Einstein."

Rodney scoffed at the remark. "Major, please. Einstein was merely a physicist. _I_ on the other hand am well versed in the fields of-"

"Rodney. I was trying to give you a compliment."

"Oh. Right, sorry. Anyway, it's just a theory. It fits with the whole 'to glimpse life through another's eyes' spiel we found engraved on the device, but I'll have a better idea once I examine the text."

John simply shook his head.

"What?" McKay asked, perturbed.

"Nothing."

"No, what?"

Sighing, Sheppard explained. "I _told_ you not to touch the switch, but you didn't listen. You just _had_ to-"

"Okay, I admit that I _did _tune you out. But in my defense, that was _well_ _after_ I already figured out you didn't possess even a fraction of my intelligence - no offense. Look, the way the device works is a lot more complicated than the abridged version I gave you before this whole thing began. You probably wouldn't even have understood what it was I had to say. Look at it this way: I was just saving us both precious time, time that would have otherwise been wasted explaining to you in simple, monosyllabic words exactly what in the hell is going on here! Oh but look, what did we just accomplish? We wasted even _more_ time just now when I _should_ have been working on solving the problem at hand. Thanks a lot, Major."

"Yeah, because it's definitely all _my_ fault," responded John sarcastically, cocking a contentious eyebrow.

Rodney thought for a moment. He had just been backed into a corner; he knew it, John knew it, but he sure as hell wasn't going to admit guilt. Not now, not ever. The head of the science department simply doesn't make mistakes. Rodney McKay doesn't make mistakes. The scientist coughed. "Now let's not get caught up in the blame game. There's no point in bickering over who did what or who may or may not have flicked a certain switch-" he cleared his throat "-without having any possible way of knowing the dire outcome of his actions. Honestly, how was I to know..."

Making an "ugh" sound, John plopped his head down on the desk, buried his face in his arms, and let McKay trail off. This was one helluva long day. His headache wasn't quite gone yet, and he certainly doubted McKay's self-exonerating story would make it any better. _God, that man could talk, especially when it's about himself._ When they returned to their reality, Sheppard vowed to take a McKay-free week of vacation. He relished the thought: seven days of no whining, no goof-ups, no supposed 'life-threatening injuries'…. Heaven.

"… never occurred before, even while working with Samantha Carter. Ah, Samantha Carter…. Anyway, as I was saying, there was no possible reason to assume that all matter inside subspace time is concentrated into a specific point of singularity, or even into a ring-shaped structure molded by the centrifugal forces of the Pegasus Galaxy, which must be presumed to be somewhat dissimilar from those of the Milky Way, which is yet _another_ reason I had no way of knowing…"

_God, is he still here? _John wondered. He felt like crying. He had hoped maybe this was all just a bad dream. Or maybe the gods or the Ancestors or whoever were angry with him for something and had consequently sent McKay to perpetually infuriate him for the rest of his days. This was his version of _Dante's Inferno_, and being stuck in an alternate reality with Rodney was his Seventh Circle of Hell. All that was missing was McKay's horns, tail, and pitchfork, some sacrificial virgins, a few howling creatures, the river Styx, throw in a couple bottomless fiery pits for good measure, and the nightmare would be complete.

"… is why we had always known even the tiniest amount of matter - an atom, or even a quark - would cause a flux in the regions of subspace. Up until now, of course, we had assumed the collapse of subatomic structures…"

_Is he _still _talking? Does he talk for the sake of talking, or does he talk because he thinks people are actually listening? Maybe he just likes the sound of his own voice. I should really let him in on just how many people doodle, nap, and daydream during his lectures. I prefer paper airplanes myself_….

"… unfortunately never got the opportunity to experience. I had always wanted to go to Disney World, but I was robbed of my childhood, Major. _Robbed. _All I asked was to go to Disney, just to see Tigger, but when I heard the chess tournament was coming up… well, you know. Still, I think Disney embodies some sort of innocence I was never exposed to during my youth. But at the same time, they're a bunch of corporate whores, aren't they? Charging four dollars for a bottle of water. Please. Did you know that their yearly profit is greater than that of some developed nations? Damn Americans and their-"

An exasperated groan to his left stopped Rodney short.

"Please tell me that if I wish really hard, you'll just go away?" came the muffled question from Sheppard, whose head was still buried under his forearms.

Rather than being offended, McKay took the would-be insult as a complement. Somehow. "Sorry, Major. You're stuck with me, at least until we get things straightened out. Well, until _I_ get things straightened out, considering it will be me doing the majority of the work-"

"Really, _really_ hard?" John tried again.

"Afraid not. Look, if you want out of this rabbit hole, why don't you come with me to my lab. The reality of it is - no pun intended - that when I _do _get the device up and running, you have to be there as well if you want to get the hell out of this place."

They both exited the infirmary and began to walk toward the science wing of Atlantis.

"_If_," John teased. "_If _you get Campbell back up and running." In all actuality, Sheppard knew McKay more than likely could figure out a way to get them home. He just enjoyed getting on the scientist's nerves.

"Oh ye of little faith. You're such a pessimist, Sheppard."

Laughing, the major replied, "This coming from a man who doesn't think any of _my_ plans will work, or anyone else's for that matter. Besides, I prefer the term 'realist.'"

"I don't think any of your plans will work because they usually don't, Major. Not everyone can be as clever as I am-"

He stopped short when they entered the lab. There in front of them was a completely empty work desk.

"Where is it?" Rodney cried, panic welling up inside of him.

"I don't-"

"I left it right here, Major! This is where I put it to study after we brought it back from the planet, and now it's gone! It was right _here_!" he shouted, slamming his hand on the desk. "I bet that damned Kavanagh took it, trying to steal my ideas again-"

"Rodney, just calm down," said John slowly. "Just take a deep breath. I doubt Kavanagh stole it. It's probably just in a different location; this _is_ an alternate reality after all."

"But where? It could me in a trillion places - anywhere in the universe at any point in time for all we know! That's over…," he did some quick mental calculations in his head, "well, it's a lot of possibilities! And even narrowing it down to only the places we can Gate to, that's still…," more mental math, "a lot of combinations! Millions, Major, _millions_!"

"Okay, deep breaths," Major Sheppard cautioned. "Before you pass out. Besides, I have a hunch on where to start looking."

"Forgive me, Major, but your hunches are about worth as much as…." Rodney tried to think of something witty to say, but his mind was still spinning from the complete shock and horror and losing their one chance at returning home. "Fine. Where?"

"Back on P7G-117," John stated matter-of-factly.

Scoffing, the astrophysicist challenged the pilot. "And what makes you say that, _Doctor_?"

John just ignored his taunting. "The Ancients were a smart bunch of people, McKay. Do you really think they'd build a device that would allow people to take a peek at 'life through another person's eyes,' only to strand them in that reality? They probably programmed it or something to return to that spot every time someone reset it."

The scientist just looked at him, skeptical. "You're no astrophysicist. How could you possibly-"

"A little common sense goes a long way, Rodney. Now let's go see who's running this show so we can get out butts back to that planet." With that, he walked out of the lab.

McKay watched the major leave. The man was right, and Rodney knew it, but he was still aggravated that he had been bested. _By a military man. No, worse: a doctor! Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him._

TBC

* * *

Yep, I know the Hippocratic Oath doesn't really say 'First, do no harm,' but I figured if it was good enough for Carson to say in 'Poisoning the Well' than it's good enough for us.

Let's review, shall we? Just for those whose heads are spinning (and that includes me): John has Carson's spot, Rodney has Teyla's spot, Elizabeth has John's spot, Carson has Ford's spot, Ford has Zelenka's spot. Hmm... where oh where could the other charatcers be? ;)


	6. Munchkins or Oompaloompas

**Per Alicus Oculae**

**A/N: **Thanks for the great reviews, guys! I'm really enjoying your guesses. Apparently, a lot of you think Zelenka is running the show... hmm... I really enjoy when you tell me which lines you like; that way I know what works and what doesn't.

gatelover313: I had to read your question a million times to understand what you were trying to ask, lol, but I think I got it! There are no 'duplicates' so to speak of Shep and McKay running around in either reality, meaning there isn't a 'real' Shep and a 'Doc Shep' coexisting in the same reality. It's all part of how the device works. I'll explain it better in a later chapter, I promise!

Klenotka: Your English is great; don't sweat it! I have plans for Zelenka, don't worry. Though Teyla being Rodney's wife would be _extremely_ funny! I think I'll let another author tackle that one. :)

Laura-trekkie: I don't know, _is_ he?

elemental-sparky: Ok, even _I'm _not that evil. Putting someone in Kavanagh's body is just... wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. ;)

TubaPrincess, Whistler84: You know, I honestly don't know how McKay got on to talking about Disney. I just figured since he has a habit of going off on tangents... and Disney was the first thing that popped into my brain. I'm weird like that. As for the other stuff he was talking about, I have no idea. I made it up and used big words. ;)

OutofPhase (from Ch. 4): Not necessarily the person who most annoys them, just whatever my warped mind comes up with. :)

**Chapter 6: Munchkins or Oompaloompas**

Jogging to catch up, McKay skidded to a halt next to John's side in the control room. Immediately, he bent over, braced his hands against his knees for support, and started sucking in mouthfuls of air. He had only run a few dozen yards and already he was out of breath.

"No, I'm fine," the scientist said with a hint of scorn to his voice as he realized the major didn't even notice him gasping for life. "No, really…," gasp, "no need to show concern…," gasp, "I could die of a heart attack anytime, but…," wheeze, "don't bother lifting a finger to help _me_ or anything…," pant. "You do know Last Rites, don't you?"

Still, John's eyes remained fixed on something beyond McKay's field of vision, something in what had been Dr. Weir's office. His eyes were narrowed in skepticism but a small smile rested upon his lips.

"_What, _may I ask, is so utterly fascinating that it is currently preventing you from coming to the aid of a dying man?" Rodney wondered.

"Oh, you're going to _love_ this…" Sheppard grinned, and pointed to where his gaze fell.

Making a big show of standing, like it was some Olympic feat, Rodney followed John's finger to Weir's former office. Immediately, his mouth fell open in disbelief, then shock, then fury, then dread.

"No. No, no, absolutely not. I refuse to accept that the biggest ass in this entire city, the biggest sleaze ball now in not one but _two_ galaxies is the head of Atlantis. This is one seriously messed up alternate dimension," Rodney griped.

"Aren't they all," Major Sheppard said with mock sincerity.

"I mean, Kavanagh! _Kavanagh_ of all people! Kavanagh, as in if-he-were-to-ever-have-children-they'd-be-born-with-cloven-hooves Kavanagh! I knew Elizabeth should have thrown him on that deserted planet when she had the chance…."

"Hey, are you still sure this is some sort of parallel universe and not one of your nightmares?" John wondered.

"I don't know. Pinch me."

Sheppard threw him a disturbed look. "McKay, I am_not_ going to pinch you-"

"It was rhetorical, Major."

"Oh. Good."

They went back studying Kavanagh, who was currently busy working with his only friend: his laptop. He sat hurriedly typing away, most likely at some berating report that condemned some poor soul on the base.

"What do you want to do?" asked John.

"I was thinking tar and feather-"

"No, I mean about getting that device back. Should we just go in there and ask him to dial up P7G-117?"

"Well, we can't very well just waltz in there and say, 'Hey there, Kavanagh. We really hate your guts, and although this is an alternate reality, we're pretty sure you hate ours, too, but could you please let Atlantis's chief medical doctor and the Athosian leader to Gate to this planet in the middle of nowhere? Maybe as a paid vacation-'"

"Okay, I see your point," Sheppard grumbled. "But we have to try something. I'm getting sick of walking around in this lab coat."

"Don't even get me _started_ on our outfits of the day, Major," bemoaned the scientist, tugging furiously on the neckline of his Athosian ensemble. "Even Liberace wouldn't touch this cheesy flea market/gypsy/peasant number with a ten foot pole."

John suppressed the urge to ridicule the man. He _did_ look ridiculous, after all. "Touché. All right, let's just go in there, try explaining what's happening, and hope for the best."

"Fine. But let's keep the details to a minimum, shall we?"

Both men entered the office, Rodney not bothering to knock. That was a sign of respect that McKay just couldn't seem to muster up for the weasel sitting behind the desk. Sheppard cast the astrophysicist a 'be careful' look; if they were going to pull this off, they would need to avoid getting on Kavanagh's nerves.

Rodney promptly sat himself in one of the chairs, not waiting for an invitation.

"Please, have a seat," said Kavanagh dryly, looking up condescendingly from his computer screen at McKay. He went back to typing on his keyboard. "What can I do for you two?" he asked, not really caring.

Before McKay could open his mouth and potentially spit out something asinine, John answered for them. This particular situation required a certain amount of tact that the Canadian scientist just didn't possess.

"Here's the thing, Kavanagh: we need to go to P7G-117." Short, sweet, and vague.

Atlantis's new leader just stared back at them from behind the desk, that greasy hair, stubby ponytail, and those beady eyes wanting to make Rodney throw up. Or at least fire him from his science team when they got back. He even doubted his glasses were real. They were probably a non-prescription pair and just an added prop to make the guy look smart. And they were failing miserably at their job.

"That's it?" Four Eyes asked. "You're not going to tell me why?"

McKay, who was now sitting back in the chair with his arms crossed, stifled a contemptuous laugh. "No."

"Then we're done here." Kavanagh went back to typing on his computer. McKay suspected he wasn't working on a report at all, but looking up the Ancient equivalent of a dirty website.

Frowning at McKay's knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, John tried to smooth things over. "We, uh, think there may be a device there - an Ancient device." He stopped, hoping that would be enough to convince Kavanagh.

It wasn't. "And?"

"And…," John searched for words, "we think that this device can be… of some scientific value to us."

"And you know this _how_, exactly?"

Taking a deep breath, John tried to think of a way to circumnavigate certain details lest Kavanagh think they were both crazy. "Well, that's a good question. See, a funny thing happened-"

"Look," McKay interrupted. He stood, all patience now vanished. "This whole thing - Atlantis, the Pegasus Galaxy, the entire universe even - it's not real. Granted, it's real in the sense that it exists…." Rodney realized he probably wasn't being clear. "It's not reality, not _our_ reality. It's an altered copy. So we need to go back to P7G-117 to get this device and put things back the way they were."

Kavanagh just stared at them, processing. "Uh-huh. So… none of this is real?"

Scoffing, Rodney answered, "Really, you didn't actually think a miserable little man such as yourself would be the head of Atlantis, now did you?

John inwardly cringed. Rodney just didn't know when to shut up, did he? Suddenly, the major got this nice mental image of himself slapping the loose-lipped scientist upside the head. A heavy silence descended upon the room as Kavanagh's face turned beet red.

"If that was your idea of a joke, Rodney, it was a bad one. I suggest you return to your duties before I put you both on report for insolence and lying to a superior," he hissed in a quiet but shocked and menacing tone. "You're dismissed."

"_What_? You're not even going to hear us out?" John cried. "I guess you're just as much as a jackass here as you are in the real world…" he mumbled. So much for tact.

"What was that, Doctor?"

"I _said_-"

"You know what, you're absolutely right, Kavanagh," McKay interjected. "It was a joke and a bad one at that; I'm afraid I'm not a very funny man - you know, Canadian humor and all - so if you'll just excuse us, we'll get back to work and out of your hair."

"_What_? What is your problem, Rodney-" John started.

"_Doctor_," insisted Rodney. "Why don't we just head back to the infirmary and leave the goodman here to his work?" He cast John a knowing look.

John glared at both Kavanagh and McKay, clearly agitated, as Rodney practically dragged him back through the door by his arm.

"Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?" hissed John as soon as they were out of earshot.

"_I _wasn't the one who almost bit the chief of Atlantis's head off," came back the scientist. "And I thought I was the one who was going to blow up at him. I suppose in that way I envy you." He paused to think and shrugged. "Anyway, I have an idea."

"If it involves tar and feathering, I can think of way more creative things to do to the little worm-"

"Would you drop it already, Major? You're not the one who has to work with him every day. And no, it doesn't involve tar and feathering. I think I know how to get him to listen to us, without getting us a one-way ticket to the Funny Farm."

Breathing in deeply a lungful of air, John calmed himself down. "Okay, shoot."

"Well, he may be the Atlantis's team leader… Wow, I can't believe I just said that. It really must be a cold day in hell. Pigs must be flying somewhere. The federal budget must be balanced. The sky is falling-"

"All right, McKay. We get it."

"Right. As I was saying, Kavanagh-" he coughed "-may be Atlantis's leader, but he's still Kavanagh." He looked up as though it explained everything.

"I noticed," John answered sardonically. "So?"

"Are you sure there's anything between those ears of yours? _So_ luckily for us, that still means he's a complete and utter egomaniacal, narcissistic, pompous, self-absorbed, self-centered, vainglorious, megalomaniac simpleton. At least that's what I'm counting on."

"And that makes us lucky… _how_?"

"God forbid you should do some _thinking_ for once in your life, Major," McKay sighed. "Don't you see? All we have to do is convince Kavanagh that there's something in it for him, and he'll be practically shoving us through that wormhole to P7G-117. It's brilliant, really," Rodney beamed, not missing the opportunity to glorify himself.

"Ah, I like how your mind works, Rodney," complimented John with a smile, now seeing the plan come together. _Even that head of yours is a little eccentric. _"Good thinking."

"Yes, I know; isn't that what I just said?"

"You know, I'm pretty sure the proper protocol for when someone gives you a compliment is to accept it and say 'thank you,' not 'I know.' I hear 'thank you very much' is pretty popular, too. "

But Rodney was distracted by the millions of synapses in his brain all firing simultaneously, each feeding him information about his plans for the next ZPM, the proper start-up and shut-down procedure for a naquadah generator, the mathematical probability that their little plan of theirs wasn't going to work, the doctor's appointment he forgot to cancel in advance before he left Earth, did he leave the stove on at home or not, who would win in a face-off: munchkins or oompaloompas, and if one of those third-grade science fair potato batteries would solve any of their power consumption problems. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he finally asked.

"Nevermind," John sighed. "Let's go." _Please, God, get me home_….

As soon as they re-entered Kavanagh's office, McKay cut to the chase, not wasting any time. He put both hands down on the man's desk and leaned in. "Okay, look. What if we told you this device was so significant - so _valuable _- that it had the potential to change the entire field of science as we know it? To change _life_ as we know it?"

"And tell me why I should care, Rodney," challenged Dr. Kavanagh, not looking up.

"For starters," John answered for him, "there'd be a pretty little promotion sitting back at the SGC for you. When they find out that _you_ were the one in charge of the team that recovered the device…." He let the gravity of what he had just said sink in through the scientist's thick skull.

_That_ snapped his head up. They could both practically see the wheels turning in Kavanagh's head. Albeit very tiny, very rusty wheels. "And you say this device… it could change life as we know it?"

They nodded eagerly.

"And you're sure it's there on this planet?"

Again, nods.

"And you want me to send a team to this planet to go get it."

More nods, followed by silence. John could feel the moment slipping away, their opportunity going right out the window.

"Ah, all in the name of science, of course," he tried.

"Hmm, naturally," Rodney added, for whatever it was worth.

"A promotion…" thought Kavanagh aloud.

He pursed his lips in thought, trying to weigh the pros and cons of the situation. There was always a chance that something could go disastrously wrong, and then what? He would be blamed and there would go his command. But that promotion did sound awful nice….

"Fine. But I won't be held accountable if anything should go wrong on this mission, understand?"

Trying desperately hard not to roll his eyes, John managed force a fake smile and agree. _Yep, that's Kavanagh._

"And I want my name on the top of the mission report that the SGC will be receiving. I'll have a team put together immediately and I'll notify you both when they return with this device. You two can go back to your duties now."

Rodney frowned. "What do you mean? We're not going along?"

"Sorry, I can't spare you two. Both of you have important jobs to take care of." He smirked maliciously. Despite what he said, McKay suspected that Kavanagh was simply spiting them for the sake of spiting them.

"Now if you both can just leave some notes on where to find this device and how to get there, et cetera, et cetera," he continued, "I'm sure the team will be able to recover it. You're both dismissed now."

They walked out of the office slightly dejected. "Well, you win some, you lose some, right McKay?" John asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"What if something does go wrong, Major, and I'm not there to fix it as usual? How's that saying go? 'If you want something done right, do it yourself?' I just don't trust anyone enough not to mess things up."

"Thanks a lot, Rodney," replied John in a mock-offended tone.

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean I don't trust anyone but our team, that's all."

John looked at his friend in a new light. Maybe he had been wrong all this time. Maybe McKay wasn't as self-centered as everyone thought, maybe he was a team player just like everyone else-

"Well now, granted," Rodney continued, "I am an integral part _of_ that team, perhaps the most valuable member even, so I suppose what I'm really saying is that I can't afford to trust anyone else but myself after all. Especially to do my job. Who knows what goon has my spot as the top scientist of the expedition, anyway."

_Then again, maybe not, _John thought.

As they stood leaning on the railing of the bridge just past the control room, McKay's question was suddenly and unexpectedly answered. Below them on the Gate room floor, a team assembled for departure. Elizabeth, the military leader, led the outfit, with Beckett assisting her as the 2IC. Looking to the left, Rodney spotted… _Bates_ as one of the scientists? No, he was dressed in the same blue and tan jacket, but judging by the books and blueprints he carried, he was clearly an anthropologist or linguist. He had a thin beard. Gone was his fiery, aggressive attitude - replaced instead by a calm, cool demeanor. _If only that were the case, _John thought.

Walking briskly into the Gate room was another military member, coming to join the team. A sergeant, so his chevrons said, but he didn't quite - _Holy spherical aberrations, it's Zelenka! _McKay realized. Without his glasses and clean shaven, the former scientist looked incredibly different. He no longer hunched but walked with an air of confidence, his eyes automatically scanning the area scrupulously.

And off to his right was the head of the science team. Rodney couldn't quite catch a glimpse of her… if she just turned around….

"Oh my God. Major, you have to see this." He tapped his friend on his shoulder.

John fixed his gaze on where Rodney was pointing and found Teyla, the fifth and final member of the new flagship team. Uber-_nerd_ Teyla. Her hair was shorter and somewhat disheveled and she had tiny, pointy purple glasses that looked like something John's great-grandmother would wear. Overall she looked unkempt, like she had just pulled a college all-nighter running on coffee alone. The science uniform certainly didn't become her; somehow she was more suited to her purple Athosian blouse. Gone was her proud, noble attitude, replaced by a jumpy, nervy demeanor. Her eyes darted around like something was going to spring suddenly out of the walls.

McKay groaned. "Of all people, _Teyla_ has my job. That's just great. No offense to her, but I hope you're prepared to stay here a while, Major."

"Hey, don't be so quick to jump to conclusions. For all you know, this Teyla could be smarter than you," teased John.

"That's highly unlikely."

"She certainly looks-" he resisted the urge to say 'geeky' "-_smart_, so maybe we've got a shot at this."

Out of the blue, an explosive sneeze from below snapped their heads back to the Gate room floor. Teyla held tissues to her nose while some of Bates's blueprints floated idly to the floor in a whirlwind of papers.

Rodney just stared smugly at John, wearing his best I-told-you-so look. "What was that you were saying, Sheppard?"

TBC

* * *

Just a couple more chapters to go, boys and girls. Yeah, I try to stick good ol' Kavs in my stories whenever possible, only because I love to hate him. He's coming back for season 2, so Gateworld says. Yay! 

And I'm assuming everyone knows who Liberace is...?

More in a few days!


	7. Erector Sets

**Per Alicus Oculae**

**A/N: **Yay! 100 reviews! Keep 'em coming, guys, and thanks to all the new reviewers, too. I saw the new season 2 promo pics (check them out at new-atlantis dot net) and got all excited, so here's the next chapter a little early!

TubaPrincess: Because I couldn't resist keeping Kavanagh as a jerk. Maybe that's a bad excuse, but it's just too much fun the way he is! You can't change 'em all... :)

sgafan33: Glad you like it! Rodney does refer to Elizabeth both by her first name and her title in the series, but the main reasons I have him doing so here is a) I got sick and tired of typing out E-liz-a-beth every time, and b) it would be monotonous to see 'Elizabeth' every other sentence. Hope that made sense.

evilclone: Suprisingly, you were the only one to ask about the muchkins and oompaloompas, lol. That was a request from a friend to have me stick it in there. Yeah, I have no idea either...

ESCotLoE: The device is only affecting John and Rodney, which - for reasons that will be explained in this chapter - is why they are the only ones who recognize something's up. To everyone else, this is their dimension. John and Rodney were the two transported into another universe, into one where all the base personnel have different roles. Hope that clears things up. :)

**Chapter 7: Erector Sets**

They made quite the pair, standing there impatiently on the Gate room floor waiting for the team to return from P7G-117 with the Ancient device. John, with his stark white doctor's coat and all the bells and whistles that came with the job, and McKay, in his malodorous Athosian circus tent outfit. In any other galaxy, in any other reality, it might have looked bizarre and out of place… _okay, it still looks bizarre,_ corrected John. _I mean, just _look _at McKay!_

The two friends were The Odd Couple, side by side. Partners in crime. Like Hawkeye and Trapper, Starsky and Hutch, or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid - minus the whole guns ablazin' untimely death thing. Or so they hoped, at any rate. Their day wasn't over, after all, and with their luck….

Suddenly, the klaxons from the above control room came to life, signaling an incoming traveler. As the seventh chevron locked and the wormhole established, Kavanagh received the proper IDC from Elizabeth and ordered the shield to be lowered. Through the Stargate walked the five returning team members, uninjured and in one piece, but more importantly - to McKay at least - in possession of the Ancient device.

"Well it took you long enough," complained Rodney. "This dead thing I'm wearing is starting to decompose already; I'm a walking health hazard, just to let you know. _Rigor mortis _isn't exactly a style that I care to sport, either."

"We had some trouble making sense of you directions, Rodney," Bates, the linguist, said.

"Ah, I should have known. Compound words have a tendency to befuddle the weaker-minded. Maybe next time I should just draw a nice little pictogram with stick figures and rudimentary geometric shapes, would that have been easier to understand?"

He walked up to Teyla and hurriedly snatched Campbell out of her hands.

"Hey!" she protested. "Be careful with that! It needs to be taken to my lab for analysis, so don't go dinging it up." It was odd to hear Teyla sound more Earth-like in her speech patterns instead of being so wooden, using contractions even and slang like 'dinging it up.'

"Don't worry, Teyla, he knows what he's doing," assured John.

Snorting and pushing her eyeglasses up the bridge of her nose, she replied, "Yeah, I'm sure. I wasn't aware the Athosians had a college of arts and sciences on their little planet so focused in the field of astrophysics."

John cast an amused look toward Rodney, who was looking at Teyla in shock. "Apparently some of your charming personality must have rubbed off on her, eh McKay?" he whispered. Then to the team, "Look, I just have to take this device to the med wing and run some basic tests on it to make sure there are no biohazards or toxins present, all right?" he lied.

"Fine," replied Kavanagh, who had walked down the stairs and joined them. "But-"

John and Rodney didn't even wait for his blessing before heading not for the infirmary but for one of the more isolated labs. After walking three steps, McKay turned around in a huff, yanked the transcript of the Ancient text Bates had apparently copied down from the cave wall out of the man's notebook, and followed Major Sheppard out of the room.

Several minutes later, Campbell sat on a workbench, hooked up once more to machines and laptops. Sprawled out in front of the apparatus were the pages upon pages of Ancient text, which Rodney was now poring over.

Frowning to himself, John piped up, "A little déjà vu, don't you think?"

"Let's hope not, hmm?" answered Rodney, who finished reading four lines of text. On the keyboard of his laptop, he typed two words in English.

John looked over his shoulder. "Two words? That's it? You read four lines and all you got out of it was _two _words?"

"Major, this is a highly technical and not to mention tedious process of first translating the Ancient to English, then attempting to decipher in what context the words are meant to be taken, _then _understanding the scientific designations for all of their contraptions, which, by the way, are rather dissimilar to ours. It doesn't just say, 'Push on button,' you know. Besides, it was _Bates _who copied it down. He probably got it wrong, anyway, that goon. I wouldn't trust him with those decoder games on the back of Rice Crispies cereal boxes." He snickered to himself, apparently thinking that was pretty funny and clever.

"Yeah, but at least he copied it down, unlike someone else I know who neglected to do so the first time around."

McKay thought about that and accepted the barb. "Point taken." Silently he read for a few more minutes before writing down a few more words, three this time.

Frowning once again, John realized this could take a while. "So…" he began nonchalantly. "How long do you think you'll be at this thing?"

"Don't worry," Rodney replied, not looking up from the paper. "We'll, ah, be back in time for the evening news," he finished, laughing nervously.

"And you say that because…?"

There was no answer as Rodney ignored him.

"Because you know it's going to work. Right?" John didn't know who he was trying to convince more: himself or Rodney.

McKay mumbled something incoherently.

"Right?" John tried again, this time feeling a little more uneasy.

Putting down his pencil in annoyance, McKay replied, "Yes, Major, because I'm _so _a glass-half-full kind of guy. Now if you'll stop with you stupid questions, I should have the device ready to go within the next few minutes."

* * *

_Five Hours Later_

"I'm bored," John complained.

"And what exactly do expect me to do about that, Major?" McKay responded, irked and now tinkering with Campbell itself.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe fix the goddamn thingy for starters!"

Rodney sighed. "Believe me, I'd love to. But the 'thingy' is a lot more complicated than that. It's not as simple as flicking the same switches we did before but in reverse order. I have to do this correctly so that we don't end up in some other alternate reality rather than our own. And that, Major, is going to take some _time_. Why don't you see if Elizabeth wants to spar." _Anything to get you to leave me alone so I can work._

"I already asked her. Apparently she's too busy, you know, running the military and all. I don't remember being that busy when I was in charge," John mused.

"That's because you're lazy and unmotivated. I'm no military commando or anything, but I have a hunch problems won't fix themselves while you're lounging on the couch, eating popcorn, and playing with yo-yo's."

"What can I say, I'm multitalented."

Being stuck in some tiny room with McKay did not bode well for John's patience. He liked to think of himself as a patient man, but having to spend the better part of a day with the world's most infuriating astrophysicist really tried that assumption.

"Come on, McKay," he began. "Can't you... reverse the polarity of the... plasma conduits or… something? You know, do some of that 're-configure the solar… matrix in parallel for endothermic propulsion while… rearranging the microconvertor to align it in phase with that… Heisenberg compensator' technobabble stuff you're always spouting off about." He didn't know if throwing in every single scientific word he had ever heard McKay use actually meant anything, he just knew it sounded good.

Rodney scoffed and looked at Sheppard pitifully. "Unfortunately, it's a little more complex than anything you might have seen on that joke of a show Star Trek. Don't even get me started on the scientific inaccuracies of the writing. Now, if you have something _intelligent_ to say, raise your hand. Otherwise, kindly keep your mouth shut so I can work at solving the universe's mysteries. Thank you." With a scowl he went back to work.

"Just… hurry up, okay? Before they make me do open-heart surgery on someone."

In the five hours since obtaining the device, John had twice been called to the infirmary to tend to two of Atlantis's residents. Thankfully, though, neither required open-heart surgery. They both complained of headaches and congestion, and at a loss for what else to do, John told them to take some Tylenol and Sudafed. Tylenol seemed to be the answer for everything, or at least he hoped. John had a hunch that had he really been a doctor, he would have been fired long ago.

Each time he had returned to the lab to find McKay _still_ working on reconfiguring Campbell, each time more parts were strewn about the desk, and each time he had grown more frustrated, depressed, and bored. Oh, how he was bored.

And so he sat on one of the lab's swiveling computer chairs, spinning while trying to balance a pencil on his finger for amusement. When he had mastered that, he moved on to trying to balance it on his nose. No success yet. _Maybe if I stand up_…. John stood and tried balancing the writing tool on his nose that way, walking a few steps in either direction for stability but only succeeding in bumping into tables.

McKay watched him from the corner of his eye. The pilot's antics were distracting him from his work. "Major, would you _please _cut that out? Or at least find something more intellectually stimulating than a pencil to entertain yourself with?"

"Well, you know what they say, Rodney," he replied, continuing the balancing act. "'The greater the mind, the simpler the toy.'"

"It's a common misconception. You're just not happy unless you're blowing up something, aren't you?"

Major Sheppard put down the pencil and pondered what Rodney had just said. Shrugging, he replied, "Yeah, that sounds about right. At least I'm not constantly holed up in some lab-" he gestured to all the equipment and components that littered the room "- playing with glorified Erector Sets."

"Oh… go shoot yourself."

Plopping himself down on one of the chairs, John continued. "It's called _relaxing_. You should look into it sometime."

"Unlike you, Major, I have no time for leisurely activities. My work here is too important."

"Well, you know what they say: all work and no play makes Rodney a dull boy," John chided.

That got McKay to look up. "Really? Who said that? Did someone actually call me dull? Because I'll have them know that I'm in fact-"

"McKay. It's just an expression." _Dear Lord_….

"Oh."

John moved on to twirling the stethoscope that had been around his neck in the air, the instrument making _whooshing _noises as he did so, much to his delight but Rodney's vexation.

"Major, would you _please_ stop that? You could damage or even break that, you know."

Sheppard shrugged. "I don't even know what it is."

"A _stethoscope_?"

John looked at the instrument with realization. "Oh, yeah," he grinned. "So _that's_ what it's called…."

Snorting, McKay replied, "And they say you graduated from Johns Hopkins. They did say 'graduate' and not 'drop out,' right?"

After a few minutes more of Rodney tinkering about, John wondered, "So what do we actually know so far? Why were _we_ the only ones who were sent to this other dimension?" Maybe trying to solve this little Scooby Doo mystery would keep his mind somewhat occupied.

McKay shrugged, not really listening. "Because we were the only ones with the Ancient gene who touched it?"

"No, that doesn't make sense. Beckett has the gene and he touched it right after you did in the briefing room."

There was no input from McKay, so John continued to theorize.

"What about that 'clear' switch you told me about?"

That got McKay's attention. He looked over some notes he had scribbled down and smiled slowly. "Yes, that makes sense…. We were the only ones with the Ancient gene who touched the device _after _the 'clear' button was pressed and _before _the 'set' and 'discharge' buttons were pushed! It says right here that the device imprints on the user or users, sort of like that shielding device I found in the city earlier. So when we touched it, it 'locked on' to us, for lack of a better term, and when we-"

"You mean 'you.'"

"Whatever. When… the 'set' button was pressed, it saved our data, our information. Then the 'discharge' switch was flicked, and, well, you know the rest. _That's_ why we were the only ones affected."

"Okay, but here's another thought: why aren't there two of us running around?" John wondered. "Shouldn't there be an alternate version of us along with the real us occupying the same dimension?"

"I doubt it. That would defeat the whole purpose of the device: to allow its users to experience life in someone else's shoes in another reality, not to have them _share_ in it. Think of it like a video game where you're playing another character in a different setting or level."

"Uh-huh. So that helps us… how?"

Shrugging, Rodney replied, "It doesn't."

_That's it. I've had it, _John thought, anger building inside him. "Rodney, I swear to God, if you don't-"

"Calm down, Sheppard. I think I'm actually close to figuring it out."

"That's what you said four and a half hours ago!"

"Yes, but this time I actually know what I'm doing!"

"Oh, that's comforting…."

Five minutes later, a very tired and hungry Rodney put down his tools and pointed to Campbell. "Look, see? All done. I think I've correctly reprogrammed it to return us to our reality as soon as we push the correct sequence of buttons and switches, just as before."

_Great, he 'thinks.' _"You're sure?" John asked incredulously.

"Hmm, relatively, yes."

"'Relatively.' Wonderful."

"Now all we have to do is touch the device again, click the heels of our ruby slippers together, and say, 'There's no place like home.'" McKay looked up an grinned.

"I knew it. You _are_ the Cowardly Lion."

"Okay, no. If I'm anyone, I'm the Wizard of Oz himself."

"Right, sure. And that makes me…?"

Rodney thought for a moment. "The Scarecrow. Obviously." That downright smug smile spread across his features again.

Frowning, John tried to remember which one the Scarecrow was. _The Cowardly Lion had no courage, The Tin Man had no heart, and The Scarecrow…. _He grinned, realizing. _The Scarecrow had no brain. Of course._

"That's very thoughtful of you, Rodney, but I don't know if it's such a good idea to be-"

A voice on the intercom system interrupted John. As soon as he heard the nasally, grating, high-pitched squeaks that the creature known as Nurse Trisha Harland used to communicate with other members of her species, his head snapped upwards and his eyes widened in worry. What if she, now back from her dinner break, was hunting him down, bent on driving him mad once again?

"Doctor Sheppard, Doctor Sheppard," the voice said. "You are needed in the infirmary immediately."

Instantly, he snapped back around to McKay. "Do it! Quick, do it now before that woman finds me here!"

Nodding, McKay hit the 'clear' button. He then placed his hand on the device, followed in suit by John. Then he quickly entered the 'set' and 'discharge' commands before a familiar what light and shockwave emanated from the device, sending them both flying backwards toward the doorway.

TBC

* * *

Hmm, that seemed familiar. Okay, folks, one more chapter. :( 

Yeah, there was a Galaxy Quest reference in there. :)


	8. The Last Word

**Per Alicus Oculae**

**A/N:** Apparently this site had a stroke or something because it wouldn't let me post. Sorry all. Here's the last chapter, a bit late. I just saw _Cube _btw, and David Hewlett was soo good! I hated the end, though (if you've seen it you know what I mean).

The _Galaxy Quest _reference in the last chapter was in the technobabble bit, about the reconfiguring the solar matrix junk. I command you all to watch that movie now!

**Chapter 8: The Last Word**

This time the shockwave didn't knock them out, but neither John nor Rodney was thankful for that. They re-entered their reality just where they had left it: in midair from where the initial shockwave had hurled them to. And when a body suddenly rematerializes in midair, gravity has this funny little tendency to take over and pull that body downward at a rate of -9.8m/s/s. But even at a height of four feet above the floor, it was still going to leave two nasty bruises on the backsides of two of Atlantis's personnel.

Which was why Rodney, for the first time in his life, decided he hated physics with a passion for that one very instant.

After hitting the floor with a thud and sliding to the wall - care of inertia - Rodney struggled to get to his feet. There before them on the lab's table was Campbell, just as they had left it the first time, with wires and laptops connected to it. It seemed to be smirking back at Rodney, almost mocking him. Next to it on a nearby machine sat the Coke John had been drinking before, still cold. Apparently, no time had passed in this dimension since they had left.

_At least it's good to be back in normal clothes, _John thought, whose normal clothes for the past year or so had been BDUs, a thigh holster, and the gray and black military jacket. Sure enough, they were all there, the same uniform he had been in before he left. He noticed Rodney looked extremely relieved to be out of his Athosian attire and back into the comfortable blue and khaki ensemble of the science team.

"You know," began John offhandedly, still on the floor and trying to catch his breath, "you'd think with the Ancients being pretty smart and all, they would have perfected their re-entries and landings."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" answered McKay, who used the wall as support while stretching a kink from his back. "If one of my discs is dislocated, I'm suing. You think my health insurance will cover injuries incurred in alternate realities?"

"Stop complaining. I can't feel my ass."

"Well at least you landed on the most padded part of your body. Did you know if you were to get struck by lightning, the safest surface to be hit on is-"

"McKay, I can honestly say that I don't really care. All I care about is whether or not we made it back to our reality."

"What, you don't trust me? After all we've been through?"

John laughed. "Rodney, it's _because_ of all we've been through that I don't trust you." Of course he was only kidding. Partially.

"Very funny. Look, I'm sure we've ended up where we want to be."

"But how do you_ know _that?"

"Um, because I'm a _genius_?"

"Oh, how could I forget? Maybe this was a bad idea."

"Major, when will you learn that all my ideas are _good _ones?"

"That's funny, because I thought stealing a ZPM from a bunch of children, sticking a personal shield that you knew _nothing_ about on yourself, oh, and let's not forget failing to copy down Campbell's instructions… were all really _bad _ideas."

"Well anything sounds bad when you say it with that attitude."

John sighed. "Okay, look. The fact is we still may or may not be in the right dimension, so forgive me if I don't take your word for it, McKay."

"Well, in that case, we'll just have to wait and see-"

At that moment, Kavanagh decided to walk into the lab. He was dressed in the normal attire of Atlantis's civilian scientists and not in the gray and red jacket of the expedition leader, much to Rodney's delight. After throwing a quick glance over his left shoulder into the hallway to make sure he wasn't being followed, the bespectacled man swiftly made his way over to the desk on which Campbell was resting. John and Rodney watched in silence as Kavanagh, apparently not having noticed the two, studied McKay's notes on the device. As he finished flipping through the pages, he moved on to McKay's laptop, where he found a wealth of information about the Ancient machine. Out of his jacket he pulled a floppy disc and inserted it into A: drive, ready to copy the files for his own use and then claim the work as his own.

McKay cocked an eyebrow at Sheppard, as if to say, "Do you really need anymore proof this is the right reality?"

Silently, John crept up behind Kavanagh, still bent over the table. Now he was fussing with the device itself. Although he was tempted to let the man tinker with it in the hopes that it would accidentally - but permanently - send him to an alternate dimension, his moral side - and a stern look from McKay - got the better of him. _Rodney's right: Elizabeth would have a fit, no doubt. After she had a good chuckle, at any rate. _Instead, John stood directly behind him, poked his head innocently over his shoulder, and cleared his throat.

The sound was enough to make Kavanagh jump a good six inches into the air. "M-major," he stammered, his face red with guilt.

"Whatcha up to, Kavanagh?" John asked, feigning ignorance. He curiously poked his finger at the device on the table.

"Nothing. Really. I was just-"

"Nothing, huh? Because you look an awful lot like a kid who's hand has just been caught stealing from the cookie jar."

"No, no." He forced a laugh. "Dr. McKay asked me to come down here and take some readings for him," he lied. Kavanagh had regained his composure by now and the words flowed freely from his mouth. _He's a good liar, I'll give him that much, _John thought. _Must've had a lot of practice._

"He did?" McKay himself answered, stepping out from the corner so he was now visible to Kavanagh. "That's funny, because I certainly don't remember telling you to come anywhere near this device." He looked down patronizingly at the other scientist for an answer, who was now frozen like a deer in headlights. The man just didn't know what to do, and McKay didn't know whether to feel pity him or to inwardly laugh at him. He chose the latter. _Ooh, it feels good to be back in charge._

"Oh, my mistake," Kavanagh responded as he slowly made his way to the door. "It must have been Dr. Weir who asked for those readings-"

"Yeah, must've been," John said dryly.

"- so if you'll both excuse me, I'll just tell her you have everything taken care of." Without waiting for a response, he offered a weak smile and escaped out the door.

Taking a deep breath, Rodney watched him go. "Yep. Home sweet home."

* * *

The team plus Beckett all sat around the large table in the briefing room waiting for Dr. Weir to arrive before beginning the meeting. Rodney and John had explained to them the Adventures of McKay and Sheppard, and what they didn't hear firsthand had reached their ears by word of mouth. But now was the official debriefing. 

"You should have told him it was a bomb and that it only explodes after someone with glasses, greasy hair, and a ponytail touches it. I'd pay to see the look on his face then," Ford remarked with a grin after being told of the Kavanagh incident.

Elizabeth had agreed to not administer any formal punishment, but the next boring assignment - preferably one that was scheduled to last for weeks - on some desolate planet was his.

The joking stopped as Dr. Weir broke off her conversation with two female airmen, whom John thought looked suspiciously like two certain nurses he had come to loathe, and entered the room. The doors closed behind her as she walked around the room to her seat. She sat at the head of the table, looked through some notes, and began the process of tying up any loose ends.

"Can I just say that it's good to be back," John spoke up suddenly before she could get a word in. To Elizabeth, he sounded more relieved than happy.

"Well, I'm glad you both returned in one piece," Dr. Weir answered honestly with a genuine smile. _Oh, what I would have paid to see these two driving each other up the wall..._

"And that you look a lot better in red," John continued, wincing immediately after the words escaped his mouth. He realized how it must have sounded. _Damn my subconscious!_ All he had meant was she was more suited to the crimson shirt and jacket of her leadership position than the military outfit her alternate self had been wearing. Suddenly it dawned on him how lucky he had it, to have a boss as good as Dr. Weir, and it made him feel guilty for all those occasions he had given her a hard time.

Five pairs of eyes instantly swiveled in his direction, the owners of which not quite sure they had heard him correctly. Carson, Rodney, and Elizabeth's mouths were slightly agape, while Ford tried not to burst out in laughter, and Teyla wore that sage-like smile on her face. Clearly she was amused, but John? Not so much.

"I'm sorry?" Elizabeth broke through the silence.

John coughed. "Okay, that sounded completely different in my head... What I had, uh, _meant_ to say was that you look _good_ in red." _No, wait… crap. That's it, John, just keep digging yourself deeper and deeper into that hole._ "I, uh-"

Elizabeth held up a hand and decided to spare him the embarrassment. After being trapped for a day with Rodney McKay, she decided to do him a favor and take pity on him. Giving him a 'We'll talk about this later' look, she eagerly moved on with the briefing.

"So we know that this device emits a shockwave of sorts that is capable of sending its user or users to other dimensions or realities; is that correct, Rodney?"

"In a nutshell, yes. But if you want to go into the details, then-"

"We don't," John interrupted with a slick grin before the astrophysicist could go into one of his long-winded speeches.

"How do we know this won't happen again?" Dr. Weir inquired before Rodney could spit out a retort, eager to keep the conversation on track.

"That would be pretty hard to do considering we're shipping the thing back to where we found it," John explained.

"Good. So do we know _why _this device does what it does?" Elizabeth continued.

"I can only hypothesize that since the Ancients stumbled upon the ability to travel through time, they also mastered - and I use the term loosely considering what Major Sheppard and I were forced to endure - the ability to travel to other realities or dimensions that are derived from every single possible outcome of our decisions," Rodney explained. "And since space, time, and mass are all invariably connected, obviously, it's really not all that implausible if you think about it."

"I prefer not to," muttered Sheppard.

"Yes, of course," retorted Rodney. "Wouldn't want to hurt yourself, now would you?"

"Well if _you_ hadn't-"

"Gentlemen," Elizabeth warned. Immediately the two bickering boys ceased their quarrel and snapped to attention. She smiled at her ability to stop their antics with one word. It always worked yet never failed to amaze her. "But weren't the Ancients strongly opposed to the idea of toying with time travel? Why create a device that would essentially be doing the same thing, only with other dimensions?"

"Perhaps the idea was abandoned or the inventor forced to cease his activities before completion," Teyla hypothesized. "And as a result of using an incomplete device, Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay were trapped in another reality without an easy means of returning."

Rodney looked at Teyla. Although she wasn't wearing the purple glasses and didn't have papers pouring out of folders as in the other reality, she was a lot smarter than he had given her credit for. "Maybe the creator didn't have time to install a straightforward way to move from one reality to another. Hence all the jerry rigging and improvising I was forced to do on the device before leaving the other reality. Which, I might add, was quite ingenious on my part."

"Yeah, and hence the sore butt," Major Sheppard added, remembering the tough landing. He'd seen rookies fresh out of flight school make better landings than that.

"You don't suppose it was Janus, do you?" Beckett asked suddenly. "The Atlantean Council tried to put a stop to his time travel device, according to the other Dr. Weir, but maybe this was his device, too? Maybe he was able to build most of it until the Council found out, at which point he was forced to cease all activities." He shrugged.

"Could be," Elizabeth agreed. "Who knows? Maybe they were just curious what it would be like to experience a day in someone else's shoes." That brought her back to something on her mind she just had to know. "So. Boys." She smiled schemingly and folded her hands in front of her. "What did you learn in this alternate reality of yours?" she asked in a teacher-like tone, playing the voice of reason. She was eager to find out if either one of them had learned to appreciate the difficulties some of the members of the expedition encountered on a daily basis.

All eyes turned to McKay and Sheppard. Rodney sat straight in his chair while the major leaned heavily - and lazily - on his arm, which was currently propped on the table.

Rodney resisted the urge to roll his eyes. No doubt Elizabeth would want an enlightened answer, like he had actually learned some important life lesson about the feelings of others or something. Well if that was what she wanted, that was what she was going to get. He'd give her what she wanted to hear all right. Anything to get him out of this briefing room sooner and back to his lab, where he could tinker with some more of his toys to his heart's content. He cleared his throat. "Well, I, um, _suppose_ that while I may not have given credit where credit was due in the past, I can now certainly identify with some of Atlantis's members. Particularly with your people, Teyla. And I've come to realize that maybe doing one's job here isn't as easy as it looks."

They all waited for more, but Elizabeth knew that was as close to an apology as they were going to get from Rodney McKay for any past callous remarks a certain scientist might have made. And if Teyla accepted it, as she did with a nod, than Elizabeth most certainly did. John just snorted at McKay's supposed revelation, knowing it was total BS.

"That's a very nice thing of you to say, Rodney," Elizabeth commended, feeling like she was praising a dog. After all, if these two weren't going to grow up, someone had to play adult. Rodney just smiled smugly to himself.

"So, John," Elizabeth continued, turning toward the major. "What was it that you learned on this fantastic voyage of yours?" It seemed Rodney had come around; now if only Major Sheppard would, maybe things would be a little more peaceful - and mature - around the base.

He frowned in thought. "I learned," John began, sitting up like what he was about to say was so important it demanded a few extra inches of height out of him. "I learned... that McKay can be equally annoying in that other dimension as he be can in this one."

The scientist just narrowed his eyes at the major, but before he could respond, Dr. Weir held up a hand once more.

Elizabeth frowned. _I should have known_. "That's not what I meant-"

"_And_ I also learned that Ford, it you ever go nearsighted, for the love of God _please _get contacts, not glasses. Elizabeth, don't quit your day job. Teyla, in case you should ever develop allergies and start sneezing all over the place, there's a little miracle in the form of a pill called Benadryl. And teach Rodney how to spar while you're at it; he's pathetic. Carson, all those times I gave you a hard time when I was in the infirmary? I'm sorry. Well, except for that one time you stuck me in the-" cough "-with a needle."

Silence settled in over the people seated around the table as they each took in what John had to say. But before the room interrupted in cacophony of questions, protests, and complaints, Rodney leaned forward and spoke, looking directly at John as he did so.

"Well, since we're still on the subject of learning - something I didn't know you were capable of, Major, quite frankly - I learned that our dear Major Sheppard is quite possibly the worst doctor on the face of the planet."

"_I_ learned that McKay here looks absolutely ridiculous in Athosian clothes. He said they smelled bad, but I think he was just trying to cover up the fact that he hasn't showered in two days," John came back, an evil grin on his face.

"That's simply _not_ true. Sheppard doesn't even know what a stethoscope is."

"I forgot what it was called, all right? McKay _fainted _when he saw he was about to get his ass handed to him by Elizabeth."

"Strategy, Major, strategy. You know, I don't remember you thanking me for getting us both out of this whole mess."

"Well I don't remember you apologizing for getting us _into_ it!"

Dr. Weir just rolled her eyes. What was next? The two calling each other 'poo-poo heads' and 'butt faces?' She mouthed 'I think we're done here' to the rest of the team, and stood to leave. The rest followed suit, walking behind her out the door.

McKay and Sheppard took no notice, now standing at opposite ends of the table.

"Major Sheppard thinks Tylenol is the answer to everything! Need a leg amputated? No problem! Whip out that Tylenol, Sheppard! And the cure for cancer? Why, the major here just discovered it! It's none other than our good over-the-counter friend Tylenol! Well done, Sheppard, well done!"

"At least I know to copy down the goddamn text on the walls behind Ancient devices!"

"Oh, that was uncalled for, Major. We've been over this before! There was no way I could have possibly known-"

"Yeah, yeah, save it for someone who _wasn't_ stuck in an alternate dimension with the universe's most difficult astrophysicist."

"And it was a real pleasure being trapped there with you, too, Major!" Rodney shouted sarcastically after him as the pilot walked out the door.

As he rounded the corner, John smiled to himself. He had just definitely won that round. Soon, he was going to pick a spot in the city that McKay wasn't at, grab his book, a turkey sandwich, and enjoy some long overdue R&R. But before that, there was that 'you look better in red' issue he had to discuss with Elizabeth...

Rodney grinned to himself, victorious, as the major left. _Yep, got the last word in. I _so_ won that one_. He headed for his lab where he could work in peace, without Sheppard asking him stupid questions. Maybe he'd grab some cafeteria food on the way. They were servingspam today...

Yes, things were back to normal indeed.

Fin

* * *

Tah dah! I hope you liked the story. Remeber to review; and tell me if I can do humor or if I should just stick to the angst, lol.

See? The boys learned something. Sort of.


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